Vivere sat Vinceere.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume 1, Issue 6, 1 March 1900, Page 21

Vivere sat Vinceere.

We live for minutes, but exist for years We only live when cannons roar, When Host meets Host in battle's blast ; And swords and bayonets wildly wave, When mail shouts hoarsely in the din of war, When from the midst of valiant foes And women weep till they can weep no more, We snatch the Standard that so proudly rose. Then is the time we live ! Then is the time we live ! The trembling fear, the strong desire to fly, When charging o'er the blood-stained dead, The rushing anger as our comrades fall, And trampling friend and foo alike, The mad leap forward in the battle crush, When with the wounded and the ulain Aud fierce desire to slay as on we rush, We help bestrew the reddened plain, Then is the time we live ! Then is the time wo live ! And when it's o'er, and when the blood is calm, And havoc, pain and death are all around ; When Passion sleeps and we, brought back to life, See nothing but the fearful end of strife, Then is the time we die ! Cijas. A. Bruford.

Vol. I.— No. 6.-34.