A SONG FOR OUR BRAVES.
[On the return of Troops from Egypt in 1882, after the victory at Tel-el-Kebir.]
A song now for the Guards,
Right gallant deeds they've done,
And liberal rewards
Their bravery has won;
The world beheld with pride
On Egypt's sandy plain
Their dreary midnight ride—
The battle charge. Like rain
Before the raging storm they swept the foe away,
And victory was won at the dawning of the day.
There in the dull grey morn,
With paling stars o'erhead,
We hear the bugle horn,—
The shouts of those who led;
We seem to hear the crash,
To see the gleaming steel,—
The cannons roar and flash,
The dusky foemen reel:
One moment at their guns they stood, then fled in wild dismay,
And victory was won at the dawning of the day.
Our heroes now come back,
In pride they march along;
Be sure they shall not lack
Warm welcome, cheers and song;
Tho' some were left behind,
And fill a soldier's grave,
Their honoured names we'll find
'Mong records of the brave
Who fell that morn while fighting and upheld old England's sway,
When victory was won at the dawning of the day.
George Dalziel.
For many years we published at intervals several small volumes of short stories, by George Dalziel, some of them having been previously printed in the various issues of the "Comic Annual." These volumes had considerable popularity, the most successful being, "My Neighbour Nellie," "Dick Boulin's Four-in-Hand," "The Story of a Shop," "A Soldier's Sweetheart," and "Only a Flower Girl." We also put together three volumes of verse, with the titles of "Mattie Grey, and Other Poems," "Faces in the Fire," and, later, "Unconsidered Trifles." The first two of these were printed exclusively for private distribution, but the last volume was addressed to the public through the publishing house of Mr. Elliot Stock. Some few of the poems in each of these volumes appeared originally in the pages of the "Annual."
An Illogical De-duck-tion. By E. G. Dalziel. From Fun.
New Mother.—"Now then, Polly, come and have your hat on, there's a little duck!"
Polly.—"Shan't! Other little ducks don't wear none—there now."
[The rest of the argument is lost in outcries and dissolved in tears.
The following lines, printed in "Faces in the Fire," were written as an affectionate tribute to the memory of one of the sweetest and most loveable of women: