HENRY NEWBOLT
Light on the Laspur hills was broadening fast,
The blood-red snow-peaks chill'd to a dazzling white;
He turn'd, and saw the golden circle at last, Cut by the Eastern height.
'O glorious Life, Who dwellest in earth and sun,
I have lived, I praise and adore Thee.' A sword swept. Over the pass the voices one by one
Faded, and the hill slept.
��<?p/ Clifton Chanel
^HIS is the Chapel, here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts of youth, And heard the words that one by one
The touch of Life has turn'd to truth. Here in a day that is not far,
You too may speak with noble ghosts Of manhood and the vows of war You made before the Lord of Hosts.
To set the cause above renown,
To love the game beyond the prize, To honour, while you strike him down,
The foe that comes with fearless eyes; To count the life of battle good,
And dear the land that gave you birth, And dearer yet the brotherhood
That binds the brave of all the earth.
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