POETRY OLD AND NEW.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LI, Issue 15769, 18 November 1914, Page 11

POETRY OLD AND NEW.

FALL IN.

What will you lack, sonny, what will you lack, i When the girls line tip the street. Shouting (heir love to the lads come back From the foe they rushed tcf beat? Will you send a strangled cheer to the sky And grin till your checks are red? But what will you lack when your mate goes by With a girl who cuts you dead? Where will you look, sonny, where will you look When, your children yet to be Clamour to learn of the part you took In the war that kept men free? Will you say it was naught to you if France Stood up to her foe or bunked? But whore will you look when they give the glance That tells you they know you funked? How will you fare, sonny, how will jaw fare. In the far-off winter night. When you sit by the fire in an old man's chair And your neighbours talk of the fight? Will you slink away, as it were from & blow. Your old head shamed and bent? Or Bay, " I was not the first to go. But I went, thank God. I went?" Why d<» they call, sonny, why do they call. For men who are brave and strong? Is it naught to you if your country fall. And Bight is smashed by Wrong? 13 it football still and the picture show, Tho pub and the betting odds. When your brothers stand to the tyrant's blow And England's call is God's? —Harold Begbii.

THE SONG OP THE CAMP. I Gire us a song!" the soldiers cried, iho outer trenches guarding. PrL. £ heated <- un \ of ,t hc camps allied lirew weary of bombarding. The dark redan, in silent scoff. a«i a 'iv. gr, i ln anc ' threatening under: And the tawny mound of the Malakoff ■No loneei belched its thunder. There waß a pause A guardsman said: q.- '"e storm the forts to-morrow; ®wo ma 7. another day Will bring enough of sorrow." They fay along the battery's side, Weiow the smoking cannon: Jiiave hearts from Severn and from Clyde, And from the banks of Shannon. They sang of lorn and not of fame; Forgot was Britain's glory: if , heart recalled a different name, ■But all sang "Annie Laurie." V Vi af ' l ? r , v °i,°e caught up th. song, t> " a tender passion like an anthem, rich and strong— .their battle-eve confession. Dear girl, her name he dared not speak. But as the song grew louder. Something upon the soldier's cheek W ashed off tho stains of powderBeyond the darkening ocean burned J- he bloody sunset's embers. While the Crimean valleys learned How English love remembers. And once again a fire of hell Rained pn the Russian quarters. With scream.of shot and burst of shell. And bellowing of tho mortars! And Irish Nora's eyes are dim . For a singer dumb, and gory: And English Mary mourns for him Who sang of " Annie Laurie." Sleep, soldiers, still in honoured- rest, Your truth and valour wearing; The bravest are the ; tenderest— . The loving are the daring.'

—Bayard Tailor,