The Grave of the Greyhound. Spencer A New Version of the Parable of the Virgins Song of the Mystic. Father Ryan THE READING-CLUB. THE DEFENCE OF LUCKNOW. I. BANNER of England, not for a season, O banner of Britain, hast thou Floated in conquering battle or flapt to the battle-cry! Never with mightier glory than when we had reared thee on high, Flying at top of the roofs in the ghastly siege of LucknowShot through the staff or the halyard, but ever we raised thee anew, And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew. II. Frail were the works that defended the hold that we held with our lives Women and children among us, God help them, our children and wives! Ild it we might and for fifteen days or for twenty at most. "Never surrender, I charge you, but every man die at his post!" Vice of the dead whom we loved, our Lawrence, the best of the brave: Col were his brows when we kissed him we laid him that night in his grave. Every man die at his post!" and there hailed on our houses and halls Death from their rifle-bullets, and death from their cannon-balls, Death in our innermost chamber, and death at our slight barri cade, Death while we stood with the musket, and death while we stoopt to the spade, 1 Death to the dying, and wounds to the wounded, for often there fell, Striking the hospital wall, crashing through it, their shot a.d their shell. Death for their spies were among us, their marksmen were told of our best, So that the brute bullet broke through the brain that could think for the rest; Bullets would sing by our foreheads, and bullets would rain at our feet Fire from ten thousand at once of the rebels that girdled us round; Death at the glimpse of a finger from over the breadth of a street, Death from the heights of the mosque and the palace, and death in the ground! Mine ? yes, a mine! Countermine! down, down! and creep through the hole! Keep the revolver in hand! You can hear him the murderous mole. Quiet, ah! quiet — wait till the point of the pickaxe be through! Click with the pick, coming nearer and nearer again than be Now let it speak, and you fire, and the dark pioneer is no more; And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew. III. Ay, but the foe sprung his mine many times, and it chanced on a day, Soon as the blast of that underground thunder-clap echoed away, Dark through the smoke and the sulphur like so many fiends in their hell Cannon-shot, musket-shot, volley on volley, and yell upon yell Fiercely on all the defences our myriad enemies fell. Redan! Guard the Storm at the Water-gate! storm at the Bailey-gate! storm, and it ran Surging and swaying all round us, as ocean on every side Plunges and heaves at a bank that is daily drowned by the tide So many thousands that if they be bold enough, who shall escape ? Kill or be killed, live or die, they shall know we are soldiers and men! Ready! take aim at their leaders their masses are gapped with our grape Backward they reel like the wave, like the wave flinging fur ward again, Flying and foiled at the last by the handful they could not subdue; And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew, IV. Handful of men as we were, we were English in heart and in limb, Strong with the strength of the race to command, to obey, to endure, Each of us fought as if hope for the garrison hung but on him; Still could we watch at all points? we were every day fewer and fewer. There was a whisper among us, but only a whisper that passed: "Children and wives if the tigers leap into the fold un awares Every man die at his post- and the foe may outlive us at last Better to fall by the hands that they love, than to fall into theirs!" Roar upon roar in a moment two mines by the enemy sprung Clove into perilous chasms our walls and our poor palisades. Riflemen, true is your heart, but be sure that your hand be as true! Sharp is the fire of assault, better aimed are your flank fusillades Twice do we hurl them to earth from the ladders to which they had clung, Twice from the ditch where they shelter, we drive them with hand-grenades; And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew. V. Then on another wild morning another wild earthquake out-tore Clean from our lines of defence ten or twelve good paces or more. Rifleman, high on the roof, hidden there from the light of the sun One has leapt up on the breach, crying out, "Follow me, follow me!". Mark him he falls! then another, and him too, and down goes he. Had they been bold enough then, who can tell but the traitors had won? Boardings and rafters and doors an embrasure! make way for the gun! Now double-charge it with grape! It is charged and we fire, and they run. Praise to our Indian brothers, and let the dark face have his due! Thanks to the kindly dark faces who fought with us, faithful and few, Fought with the bravest among us, and drove them, and smotc them, and slew That ever upon the topmost roof our banner in India blew. VI. Men will forget what we suffer and not what we do. We can fight; But to be soldier all day and be sentinel all through the Ever the mine and assault, our sallies, their lying alarms; Bugles and drums in the darkness, and shoutings and soundings to arms, Ever the labor of fifty that had to be done by five, Ever the marvel among us that one should be left alive, Ever the day with its traitorous death from the loopholes around, |