You heard the bugles calling, comrades, brothers,—
“Close up! Close up!” You mounted to go forth,
You answered “We are coming,” and you gathered,
And paraded with your Captains in the North.
From here you came, from there you came, your voices
All flashing with your joy as flash the stars,
You waited, watched, until, the last one riding
Out of the night, came roll-call after wars.
Unsling your swords, off with your knapsacks, brothers!
We’ll mess here at headquarters once again;
Drink and forget the scars; drink and remember
The joy of fighting and the pride of pain.
We will forget: the great game rustles by us,
The furtive world may whistle at the door,
We’ll not go forth; we’ll furlough here together—
Close up! Close up! ‘Tis comrades evermore!
And Captains, our dear Captains, standing steady,
Aged with battle, but ever young with love,
Tramping the zones round, high have we hung your virtues,
Like shields along the wall of life, like armaments above:
Like shields your love, our Captains, like armaments your
virtues,
No rebel lives among us, we are yours;
The old command still holds us, the old flag is our one flag,
We answer to a watchword that endures!
Close up, close up, my brothers! Lift your glasses,
Drink to our Captains, pledging ere we roam,
Far from the good land, the dear familiar faces,
The love of the old regiment at home!
W. E. H.
“Henley is dead!” Ah, but the sound and the sight of him,
Buoyant, commanding, and strong, suffering, noble in mind!
Gone, and no more shall we have any discourse or delight of him,
Wearing his pain like a song, casting his troubles behind.
Gallant and fair! Feeling the soul and the ruth of things,
Probing the wounds of the world, healing he brought and surcease—
Laughter he gave, beauty to teach us the truth of things,
Music to march to the fight, ballads for hours of peace.
Now it is done! Fearless the soul of him strove for us,
Viking in blood and in soul, baring his face to the rain,
Facing the storm he fared on, singing for England and love of us,
On to the last corral where now he lies beaten and slain.
Beaten and slain! Yes, but England hath heed of him,
Singer of high degree, master of thought and of word—
She shall bear witness with tears, of the pride and the
loss and the need of him;
We shall measure the years by the voice and the song unheard.
WHEN BLOWS THE WIND
When blows the wind and drives the sleet,
And all the trees droop down;
When all the world is sad, ‘tis meet
Good company be known:
And, in my heart, good company
Sits by the fire and sings to me.
When warriors return, and one
That went returns no more;
When dusty is the road we run,
And garners have no store;
One ingle-nook right warm shall be
Where my heart hath good company.
When man shall flee and woman fail,
And folly mock and hope deceive,
Let cowards beat the breast and wail,
I’ll homeward hie; I will not grieve:
I’ll curtains draw, I’ll there set free
My heart’s beloved boon company.
When kings shall favour, ladies call
My service to their side;
When roses grow upon the wall
Of life, and love inside;
I’ll get me home with joy to be
In my heart’s own good company!
DOLLY
King Rufus he did hunt the deer,
With a hey ho, come and kiss me, Dolly!
It was the spring-time of the year—
Hey ho, Dolly shut her eyes!
King Rufus was a bully boy,
He hunted all the day for joy,
Sweet Dolly she was ever coy:
And who would e’er be wise
That looked in Dolly’s eyes?
King Rufus he did have his day,
With a hey ho, come and kiss me, Dolly!
So get ye forth where dun deer play—
Hey ho, Dolly comes again!
The greenwood is the place for me,
For that is where the dun deer be,
And who would stay at home,
That might with Dolly roam?
Sing hey ho, come and kiss me, Dolly!