Told in gallant deeds

“Now tell us what ’twas all about,” Young Peterkin, he cries. And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; “Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each...

I saw fierce Prussia’s chargers stand, Her children’s sharp swords out; Proud Austria’s bright spurs streaming red When rose the closing shout; But soon the steeds rushed master...

This England never did, nor never shall Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. Come the three corners of the world in arms And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue If En...

And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature’s teardrops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e’er grieves, Over the unreturning brave,—alas! Ere eveni...

On the Monday the whole world, with the exception of Germany and Austria, heard with dismay that the famous Belgian fort of Namur had fallen, after holding out as long as it cou...

He, who in concert with an earthly string Of Britain’s acts would sing, He with enraptured voice will tell Of One whose spirit no reverse could quell; Of One that ’mid the faili...

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! ... Teach them how to war! And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England...

And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light, In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look! the land is bright! ARTHUR CLOUGH.

Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war, Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb; The Angel of Fate turns them with mighty hands, And casts them out upon the darkened earth...

O torn out of thy trance, O deathless, O my France, O many-wounded mother, O redeemed to reign! O rarely sweet and bitter The bright brief tears that glitter On thine unclosing...

The future’s gain Is certain as God’s truth; but, meanwhile, pain Is bitter, and tears are salt: our voices take A sober tone; our very household songs Are heavy with a nation’s...

Thank Him who isled us here, and roughly set His Britain in blown seas and storming showers, We have a voice with which to pay the debt Of boundless love and reverence and regre...