III
If you have peace of mind or if you worry,
If things move slowly or if in a hurry,
If you make hasty steps or if you tarry,
If you stay single or if you marry,
Whether you barren be, whether a mother,
This you will find whate’er hap or miscarry,
Life is but one darn thing after another.
COURCELLETTE.
Early on an autumn morning,
Facing famous Courcellette,
Lay the Twenty-fifth battalion,
In the trenches damp and wet;
Far away from home and kindred,
Near the far-famed river Somme,
Here and there a man lay dying,
Stricken by a shell or bomb.
Men of every trade and calling,
Of each company formed a part,
Downy youth and bearded manhood
From the farm and from the mart,
Miners, farmers, sailors, tradesmen,
From each hamlet, town and glen,
Born of Nova Scotian mothers
From the breed of manly men.
All alert and ever watching,
On the guard both day and night,
Each one ever his part doing,
In the struggle for the right;
Thinking always of the homeland
Far away in Acadie,
Of a mother, wife, or sister
Whom they never more might see.
On the high hills overlooking,
All the country down below,
In their deep concreted dugouts,
Lay the ever watchful foe;
With artillery commanding
All the hills for miles around,
Through which, like a thread of silver,
River Somme its free way wound.
There were Saxons and Bavarians
In the Hun’s embattled host,
And the fierce and bloody Uhlans
Whom the Kaiser loves to toast;
Where they stood in close formation
Like a solid human block
Fronted by the famous fighters
Called the troops of battle shock.
When upon the morn in question,
Just about the break of day,
Word the Twenty-fifth was given
To make ready for the fray;
And they sprang up from their trenches
Like the wild lynx with a bound,
And they rushed without a falter
Right across the barrage ground;
And they fell upon the Germans
Like an avalanche of hail,
And the Teutons bent before them
Like the grain before the gale.
And with irresisting fury
They assailed the faltering Hun,
And before the day was over
Famous Courcellette was won.
Then let mothers tell their babies
Whom they nurse upon their breasts,
And the teachers tell the children
In our schools from east to west,
How at Courcellette’s fierce battle,
An undying name was made
By the Twenty-fifth battalion
Of the fighting fifth brigade.
VIMY RIDGE.
For days the cannon roaring
With loud incessant peal,
The terrane and the trenches
Had torn with lead and steel;
Which told the boys in khaki
Of fighting near at hand,
And eagerly all waited
The long wished for command.
Within the first line trenches,
The highland laddies lay,
Their thoughts were of their mothers
Or sweethearts far away;
Each one of them was thinking
Of home and native sod,
And like a Christian soldier
Had made his peace with God.
The morn broke dark and stormy
With hail and snow and sleet,
Which made for many soldiers
Ere night, their winding sheet;
The shrapnel bits were flying,
Like swarms of summer midge,
When Borden’s highland laddies
Charged up the Vimy Ridge.
On the top of this famed mountain,
Nearby the city Lens,
The enemy in dugouts
Lay like lions in their dens;
The mountain strong by nature,
The Germans stronger made
With cannon and with mortar,
On concrete bases laid.
And thousands of machine guns,
In their allotted place,
And thousands of their snipers,
With rifle and with brace;
And lines of barbed wire fencing
Of every strength and size,
And aught else which their science
Or cunning could devise.
Their seeming sense of safety,
The Teutons did elate,
And all were glibly chanting
The Kaiser’s hymn of hate,
When, lo! the pibroch’s skirling
Their first line did astound
And Donald, Rod and Angus
Came on them with a bound.
And ere they had recovered
From their astonishment
The foremost of their gleemen
To sing elsewhere were sent;
And midst the cry of Kam’rade
In broken English spoke,
Both Prussian and Bavarian
Went down from bayonet stroke.
And furious was the struggle,
’Twixt Highlander and Hun,
For hand to hand the fighting
On Vimy Ridge was done.
The shock troops of the Kaiser,
And all his proud array,
Fled fast before the Bluenose
On that eventful day.
And when the war is over,
And peace again is come,
We’ll give our gallant laddies
A highland welcome home;
With flags and banners waving,
With singing and with cheer,
We’ll celebrate the glory
Of Vimy day each year.
GOD SAVE OUR EMPIRE GREAT.
God save our empire great,
And to her board of state,
Wise Counsel bring;
May we in union free,
Mother and daughters be,
Ever one family:
God save the king.
Grant that there will arise,
Beneath Canadian skies,
Freedom’s offspring;
May we be always free,
From hate and bigotry,
Co-heirs of liberty:
God save the king.
THE VETERAN
A veteran too was there with shoulders broad
As is the marsh in Amherst’s neighborhood;
Of stature high and of a kingly stride,
And in his face there shone a noble pride.
His eyes bespoke a soul to never yield
In fair fought fight at home or battle field.
A civic man before the war began
And since its end again a civic man.
Beloved by all his comrades, young and old,
For wise decisions and for action bold;
His head was cool but kindly was his heart,
In every act of war he did his part—
In digging in to use the lowly spade,
In battle field to wield the bloody blade,
In trench, in rest, to eat the soldiers’ fare,
A man of manly breed, his wounds to bear.
Three years he served where colored poppies grow
Between the wooden “crosses, row on row,”
Observing all, so well could tell a tale
of Bourlon Wood or bloody Pachendaele.
| Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: |
|---|
| An Elegy Writtne in Richmond=> An Elegy Written in Richmond |
| Burnihing in colors=> Burnishing in colors |
| now ’Im old=> now I’m old |
| The Tuetons did elate=> The Teutons did elate |
| Of lovliness divine=> Of loveliness divine |
| perfect ecastasy=> perfect ecstasy |
| A sweet momoriam for aye=> A sweet memoriam for aye |
