"With the bands at play and the colours spread
We swarmed up the parapet,
But the sight that silenced our welcome shout
I shall never in life forget.
Four days before had their water gone--
They bad dreaded that the most--
The next their last scant rations went,
And each man looked a ghost,
"As he stood, gaunt-eyed, behind his gun,
Like a crippled stag at bay,
And watched starvation--but not defeat--
Draw nearer every day.
Of all the Fifth, not four-score men
Could in their places stand,
And their white lips told a fearful tale,
As we grasped each bloodless hand.
"The rest in the stupor of famine lay,
Save here and there a few
In death sat rigid against the guns,
Grim sentinels in blue;
And their Col'nel, _he_ could not speak nor stir,
But we saw his proud eye thrill
As he simply glanced at the shot-scarred staff
Where the old flag floated still!
"Now, I hate the tyrants who grind us down,
While the wolf snarls at our door,
And the men who've risen from us--to laugh
At the misery of the poor;
But I tell you, mates, while this weak old hand
I have left the strength to lift,
It will touch my cap to the proudest swell
Who fought in the Dandy Fifth!"
"BAY BILLY.
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