Successful Recitations Part 39

Wives, mothers, sweethearts sent Their dearest; waved their own defenders forth; And, fit companions for the bravest, went The Boys, to test their manhood, prove their worth.

As Sons of those who braved All dangers; to Earth's ends our Flag unfurled, The old pioneers of Ocean, who have paved Our pathway with their bones around the world!

To-day the City waits, Proudly a-throb with life about to be: She welcomes her young warriors in her gates Of glory, opened to them by the Sea.

Let no cur bark, or spurt Defilement, trying to tarnish this fair fame; No Alien drag our Banner through the dirt Because it blazons England's n.o.ble name.

Upon the lips of Praise They lay their own hands, saying, _"We have not won Great battles for you, nor Immortal bays, But what your boys were given to do is done!"_

When Clouds were closing round The Island-home, our Pole-star of the North, Australia fired her Beacons--rose up crowned With a new dawn upon the ancient earth.

For us they filled a cup More rare than any we can brim to them!

The patriot-pa.s.sion did so lift men up, They looked as if each wore a diadem!

Best honours we shall give, If to that loftier outlook still we climb; And in our unborn children there shall live The larger spirit of this great quickening time.

To-day is the Women's day!

With them there's no more need o' the proud disguise They wore when their young heroes sailed away; Soft smiles the dewy fire in loving eyes!

And, when to the full breast, O mothers! your re-given ones you take, And in your long embraces they are blest, Give them one hug at heart for England's sake.

The Mother of us all!

Dear to us, near to us, though so far apart; For whose defence we are sworn to stand or fall In the same battle as Brothers one at heart.

All one to bear the brunt, All one we move together in the march, Shoulder to shoulder; to the Foe all front, The wide world round; all heaven one Triumph Arch.

One in the war of Mind For clearing earth of all dark Jungle-Powers; One for the Federation of mankind, Who will speak one language, and that language ours.

"SOUND THE a.s.sEMBLY!"

BY CLEMENT SCOTT.

_(From Punch's Souvenir. May 3rd, 1900.)_

Sound the a.s.sembly! Blow, Buglemen, blow!

For England has need of her bravest to-day.

Sound! and the World Universal will know We shall fight to a finish, in front or at bay.

Sound the a.s.sembly! They'll hear it, and spring To the saddle, and gallop wherever they're led.

Sound! Every city and village will ring With the shout "To the front!" It shall never be said--

That an Englishman's heart ever failed in its glow For Queen, or for country, when threatened by foe, For Liberty, stabbed by oppression and woe, So, Sound the a.s.sembly! Blow! Buglemen, blow!

Sound the a.s.sembly!

Sound the a.s.sembly! You'll see, as of yore, The Service united in heart and in head, When blue-jackets leap from their s.h.i.+ps to the sh.o.r.e To bring up the guns for their comrades in red!

Sound the a.s.sembly! Our Naval Brigade Will prove they are sailors and soldiers as well; They will pull, they will haul, they will march, they will wade, And dash into furnaces hotter than h.e.l.l!

A long pull, a strong pull, a cheery "Yo! ho!"

Do you see that big mountain? 'Tis Jack who will know To be first at the top, when, by gad! he will crow!

So, Sound the a.s.sembly! Blow, Buglemen, blow!

Sound the a.s.sembly!

Sound the a.s.sembly! Brave Union Jack!

You have floated triumphant on sea and on sh.o.r.e; Old England and Scotland are still back to back, And Ireland, G.o.d bless her! is with us once more.

Sound the a.s.sembly! Come! Forward! Quick march!

What! Feather-bed soldiers? Bah! give them the lie.

Divested by war of Society starch They will shout "'Tis a glorious death to die!"--

What land in the world could produce such a show Of heroes, who face both siroccos and snow, Rush madly to danger, and never lie low?

So, Sound the a.s.sembly! Blow, Buglemen, blow!

Sound the a.s.sembly!

Sound the a.s.sembly! Form, citizens, form!

From smoke of the city, from country so green, A horse of irregulars sweeps like a storm To defend with their lives their dear country and Queen!

Sound the a.s.sembly! Come! Volunteers, come!

Leave oldsters at grinding and tilling the sod!

Bold Yoemen, enrolled for defence of their home, Enlist with a cheer for the Empire, thank G.o.d!--

To the front! to the front! with their faces aglow, They will march, the dear lads, with a pulse and a go; Wave flags o'er the Workman, the Johnnie, the Beau, So, Sound the a.s.sembly! Blow, Buglemen, blow!

Sound the a.s.sembly!

THE ABSENT-MINDED BEGGAR.

BY RUDYARD KIPLING.

When you've shouted "Rule Britannia"--when you've sung "G.o.d Save the Queen"-- When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth-- Will you kindly drop a s.h.i.+lling in my little tambourine For a gentleman in kharki ordered South?

He's an absent-minded beggar and his weaknesses are great-- But we and Paul must take him as we find him-- He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate-- And he's left a lot o' little things behind him!

Duke's son--cook's son--son of a hundred kings-- (Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!) Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after their things?) Pa.s.s the hat for your credit's sake, and pay--pay--pay!

There are girls he married secret, asking no permission to, For he knew he wouldn't get it if he did.

There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due, And it's more than rather likely there's a kid.

There are girls he walked with casual, they'll be sorry now he's gone, For an absent-minded beggar they will find him; But it ain't the time for sermons with the winter coming on-- We must help the girl that Tommy's left behind him!

Cook's son--Duke's son--son of a belted Earl-- Son of a Lambeth publican--it's all the same to-day!

Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after the girl?) Pa.s.s the hat for your credit's sake, and pay! pay! pay!

There are families by thousands, far too proud to beg or speak-- And they'll put their sticks and bedding up the spout, And they'll live on half o' nothing paid 'em punctual once a week, 'Cause the man that earned the wage is ordered out.

He's an absent-minded beggar, but he heard his country call, And his reg'ment didn't need to send to find him: He chucked his job and joined it--so the job before us all Is to help the home that Tommy's left behind him!

Duke's job--cook's job--gardener, baronet, groom-- Mews or palace or paper-shop--there's someone gone away!

Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after the room?) Pa.s.s the hat for your credit's sake, and pay! pay! pay!