WAR SONGS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 11508, 2 October 1915, Page 7

WAR SONGS.

WHAT SOLDIERS SING. HAS f> TIPPER ARY " BEEN SUPERSEDED? A scene of grim determination, ■ of patriotio enthusiasm raised to the point of spiritual exaltation, took place recently when thousands of Welshmen at the Bangor Eisteddfod rose to their feet, cheering madly at the conclusion of an address by the greatest Welshman of all—Lloyd George—and spontaneously burst into the chorus of "Men of Harlech." " We must fight on," declared Lloyd George with the deepest solemnity, "or forever sink, as a people, into impotent obscurity." The answer of that vast assemblage of Welshmen at Bangor was a mighty shout. They rose as one man, and the soul stirring lines of " Men of Harlech " swung far out into the night. SINGING—WHAT! When the war broke out and the first of the British troops were marching j through London on their way to take I steamer for the Channel cable despatches told how they went jauntily along, singing—what? Why singing the rollicking, light, frivolous lines of " Tipperary." One regiment after another, marching to the front, to engage in the most astounding war of all history ! It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go; It's a long way to Tipperary; To the sweetest girl I know; Farewell, Piccadilly. Good-bye, Leicester Square; It's a long, long way to Tipperary, But my heart goes there! Such a song, such the words, with which the troops of Britain marched on their, way—light hearted, frivolous, carelessly self confident. me German sneered. The Austrians laughed in their sleeves with a grim laugh of contempt. For they knew what these same cocksure British troops soon would be facing; conditions never dreamed of by the men so gayly tramping onward under fluttering colours of his Majesty, their hearts fluttering just as gayly, their wives and mothers and sweethearts echoing equally light response, and confident that in a. few months they would be coming home again, crowned with victory, decorated with medals and ribbons. GERMAN SONGS. And what were the Germans singing as they prepared that sudden rush through Belgium into France, and almost to the very walls of Paris? Stein songs? Songs of love and laughter? Nob once, so far as the world knows. The martial swing of " Deutschland Ueber Alles," was what those G erma.it cohorts sang, and the thunder of " Die Wacht am Rhein." There was serious business ahead. They knew the seriousness of it. They went to battle with the same faith that was Cromwell's when- he led his psalm singing soldiers into conflict. NEW SONG AND NEW SPIRIT. The year has gone by; i>.e first year o| the war—the year when all Britain,, efcepting a comparatively few men and women of sound judgment, seems to have regarded the conflict as a part and parcel of the "Tipperary" spirit. There are evidences that with the year has departed this same "Tipperary" spirit. The British have a new song. It is not a new song with the Welsh who hive sung it for generations. The British are singing it in the trenches. It is chorused to stir the fire of patriotism at recruiting meetings all over the country. It is "Men of Harlech." "MEN OF HARLECH." Here, are the words of the old Welsh battle hymn:—

Men of Harlech ? In the hollow, Do yo hear like rushing billow, Wave on wave that surging follow Battle's distant sound? 'Tis the camp of Saxon foemen, Saxon spearmen, Saxon bowmen, Be they knights or hinds or .yeomen, Death is glory now. | Loose the folds asunder, Flag we conquer under! The placid sky, now bright on high Shall launch its holts in thunder;"" Onward, 'tis our country needs us, He is bravest, he who leads us! Honour's self now proudly heads us! Freedom ! God and Eight! Rocky steeps, and passes narrow, Flash with spear and (light of arrow; Who would think of pain or sorrow? They shall bite the ground: Hurl the reeling horsemen over.' Let the earth dead foemen cover, Fate of friend, of wife, or lover, Trembles on a blow. Strands of life are riven, Blow for blow is gives. In deadly lock or battle shock, And mercy shrieks to Heaven. Men of Harlech, young or hoary, Would you win a name in story Strilie for home, for life, for glory! Freedom! God, and Right! Does the change from •'■' Tipper ary " to/"'Men of Hark eh" mark the awak« ening of the British hs-n':