England, My England: A War Anthology |
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Page vii
... thought of you , your soul had sped . Fair stood the wind for France . First O songs for a prelude God be praised that I stand at last God save our gracious King • Gods of Berserker and Viking , Thor and Odin , rise again Great ...
... thought of you , your soul had sped . Fair stood the wind for France . First O songs for a prelude God be praised that I stand at last God save our gracious King • Gods of Berserker and Viking , Thor and Odin , rise again Great ...
Page 15
... thought of you your soul had sped , Friend of old , happy , far off , boyhood days , And , as across the sea I turned my gaze , The soil of France with your brave blood was red ! Blame not the shears that slit the thin yarn thread ...
... thought of you your soul had sped , Friend of old , happy , far off , boyhood days , And , as across the sea I turned my gaze , The soil of France with your brave blood was red ! Blame not the shears that slit the thin yarn thread ...
Page 39
... thought - perhaps ' twas the pale moonlight- They looked as white as their brothers ! And so all night marched the nation's dead , With never a banner above them spread , Nor a badge , nor a motto brandishèd ; No mark - save the bare ...
... thought - perhaps ' twas the pale moonlight- They looked as white as their brothers ! And so all night marched the nation's dead , With never a banner above them spread , Nor a badge , nor a motto brandishèd ; No mark - save the bare ...
Page 51
... thought it turned The milk that fell like a babbling flood Into the milk - pail red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the trees . But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical ...
... thought it turned The milk that fell like a babbling flood Into the milk - pail red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the trees . But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical ...
Page 63
... thought of my whispering soul to each in the ranks , and to you , I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul , O the bullet could never kill what you really are , dear friend , Nor the bayonet stab what you really are ; The soul ...
... thought of my whispering soul to each in the ranks , and to you , I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul , O the bullet could never kill what you really are , dear friend , Nor the bayonet stab what you really are ; The soul ...
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Common terms and phrases
Arethusa arm'd arms army array banner battle beat blast blood boys breath Bret Harte bugles blown Cannon charge cheer Christ or Nietzsche Clusium crest cried death deep dread drum England's dead eyes F. W. Bourdillon fair fathers fell field fierce fight fire flag fought gallant glory hand Hark hath hear heard Hearts of oak heaven helmet helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre Herminius Highland laddie hills Horatius horse John Burns King land Lars Porsena light look Lord loud Marmion morn mountain Navarre ne'er never night noble o'er pibroch pride proud quoth rage roar rode rolling rose round rush Sextus shield shout slain smile soldier song sound spake spears stand stood sweet sword tears thee Thomas Campbell thou thousand thunder twas victory vigil voice W. E. Henley Walt Whitman waves wild winds do blow wounded