Soldier Songs and Love Songs Part 4

JOCK.

O'er the deep wi' me, la.s.sie, Will you, will you?

Sail the sounding sea, la.s.sie, Will you, will you?

Where the mountains, crowned with pine, Dipping to the western brine, Shade, with everlasting vine, Golden grape and countless kine, La.s.sie, la.s.sie?

JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie, Will I, will I, Sail the sounding sea, laddie, Will I, will I, Whether mountains dip or bear Heavenward through our future air, Princely feast or peasant fare, What thou darest, I will dare, Laddie, laddie!

JOCK.

O'er the deep wi' me, la.s.sie, Will you, will you?

Sail the sounding sea, la.s.sie, Will you, will you?

Where the lambies, on the braes, Gambol in the golden haze, And the solar disc delays Heaven throughout the happy days, La.s.sie, la.s.sie?

JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie, Will I, will I, Sail the sounding sea, laddie, Will I, will I, Wheresoe'er thy feet delay, Drenched in rain or golden spray, To the end of life's long day, I will love thee as I say, Laddie, laddie!

JOCK AND JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, dearie, Will I, will I, Sail the sounding sea, dearie, Will I, will I, 'Neath the starred or starless sky, Heaven is where the heart beats high, With a love that cannot die; So we wander, you and I, Dearie, dearie!

THE FLAG OF BROTHERS.

There is blood upon the Banner, the Banner of the Free, There is blood upon _our_ Banner, and it lies 'twixt you and me, And, like the blood of Abel, it crieth from the sod, And it crieth unto G.o.d throughout the Morning.

There's a blot upon the Banner, the Banner of the Free, There's a blot upon _our_ Banner, and it lies 'twixt you and me, And, like the soul of Samuel, it riseth from the clod, And it crieth unto G.o.d throughout the Nooning.

There's a curse upon the Banner, the Banner of the Free, There's a curse upon _our_ Banner, and it lies 'twixt you and me, And, like the curse of Cain, it scars our brows with pain, And it sears a Brother's brain throughout the E'ening.

May the Lord now bleach this Banner, the Banner of the Free, And keep that Banner floating as a pledge 'twixt you and me, And, like the eyes of Noah, as the Flood of Blood flies from us, May we see the Bow of Promise in the Morning.

Our Banner, then, unsullied, this Banner of the Free, Will be a Brother's Banner, held up by you and me, And, like a Christian people, as example unto others, We will wave the Flag of Brothers on that Morning.

WITH A HO-HO-HO! AND A HI-HI-HI!

With a ho-ho-ho! and a hi-hi-hi!

With a canzonet and tabor, Thus, with ho-ho-ho! and our hi-hi-hi!

We amble, ramble, gambol, I And my lily-fingered neighbor.

With a ha-ha-ha! and a he-he-he!

With a joyous laugh and caper, Thus, with ha-ha-ha! and our he-he-he!

In sunlight, moonlight, starlight, we Both consume our life's bright taper.

With a hi-hi-hi! and a ho-ho-ho!

With a prancing, dancing gaiter, Thus, with hi-hi-hi! and our ho-ho-ho!

We ringing, singing, swinging, go, Through the glees of our Creator.

With a he-he-he! and a ha-ha-ha!

Through all spells of wind or weather, Thus, with he-he-he! and our ha-ha-ha!

Till frailing, ailing, failing, ah!

We will die and lie together.

Thus, with ho-ho-ho! and a hi-hi-hi!

With a canzonet and tabor, Yea, with ho-ho-ho! and our hi-hi-hi!

We amble, ramble, gambol, I And my lily-fingered neighbor.

SEE THE FIELD OF BATTLE GLEAMS.

See, the field of battle gleams Yonward past the tented streams, There the foe is camping; By the thirst-a.s.suaging rill, From the copse behind the hill Hear his war-steeds champing.

Northern Knights and Southern Sons, Onward to the gleaming guns!

Now's the hour of battle!

Though his files be ten to one, Seek the foe from sun to sun, Where his muskets rattle.

O'er the walls with slaughter wet, O'er the ball-scarred parapet, Daring man and missile, Charge to meet his best or worst, Where his shrieking bombsh.e.l.ls burst And his bullets whistle.

Roll in waves of living blue, Pierce the columned centre through, Fill the world with wonder; Rush, as with a lion's will, Where his lightnings flash to kill And his cannon thunder.

Meet him with a tiger's spring, Quicker than an eagle's wing, Where the bayonet piercest.

When you feel the foeman's breath, Soldier, strike for life or death, Where the fight is fiercest.

Than a coward, proved and known, Better be to atoms blown, Where the doomed are dying.

Welcome death in wildest way, But to mingle with that clay Where the brave are lying.

Thus will Honor be our meed For some doubly daring deed When we end our story.

Then in graves with roses blown, By the hands of patriots strown, We will sleep in glory.

THE DYING SOLDIER TO THE NIGHTINGALE.