“Oh where, and oh where does your Highland laddie dwell?
‘He dwells in merrie Scotland, at the sign of the Blue Bell;
And it’s oh, in my heart, that I love my laddie well.’
“What clothes, in what clothes is your Highland laddie clad?
‘His bonnet’s of the Saxon green, his waistcoat’s of the plaid;
And it’s oh! in my heart, that I love my Highland lad.’
“Suppose, oh, suppose that your Highland lad should die?
‘The bagpipes shall play over him, I’ll lay me down and cry;
And it’s oh! in my heart, that I wish he may not die!’”
RUDYARD KIPLING
RECESSIONAL.
God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!