The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Guards Came Through and Other Poems, by
Arthur Conan Doyle
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Title: The Guards Came Through and Other Poems
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Release Date: November 21, 2011 [EBook #38071]
Language: English
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THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH
AND OTHER POEMS
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
- SONGS OF ACTION
- SONGS OF THE ROAD
- THE WHITE COMPANY
- MICAH CLARKE
- THE REFUGEES
- RODNEY STONE
- UNCLE BERNAC
- THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
- MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
- HIS LAST BOW: SOME REMINISCENCES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
- THE ADVENTURES OF BRIGADIER GERARD
- THE SIGN OF FOUR
- SIR NIGEL
- CAPTAIN OF THE POLESTAR
- ROUND THE RED LAMP
- THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS
- THE TRAGEDY OF THE “KOROSKO”
- A DUET, WITH AN OCCASIONAL CHORUS
- THE GREEN FLAG, AND OTHER STORIES
- THE ADVENTURES OF GERARD
- THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
- THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
- THROUGH THE MAGIC DOOR
- ROUND THE FIRE STORIES
- THE LAST GALLEY
- THE LOST WORLD
- THE VALLEY OF FEAR
- DANGER! AND OTHER STORIES
LONDON: JOHN MURRAY
THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH
AND OTHER POEMS
BY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
AUTHOR OF
“SONGS OF ACTION,” “SONGS OF THE ROAD”
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1919
All Rights Reserved
PREFACE
I must apologize for the size of this booklet, which can only be justified on the grounds that there is some demand for the contents as recitations. I hope presently to combine whatever is worth preserving in my three volumes of verse, so as to make a single collection.
Arthur Conan Doyle.
CONTENTS
| PAGE | |
|---|---|
| THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH | 9 |
| VICTRIX | 13 |
| THOSE OTHERS | 16 |
| HAIG IS MOVING | 20 |
| THE GUNS IN SUSSEX | 22 |
| YPRES | 26 |
| GROUSING | 37 |
| THE VOLUNTEER | 40 |
| THE NIGHT PATROL | 44 |
| THE WRECK ON LOCH MCGARRY | 47 |
| THE BIGOT | 55 |
| THE ATHABASCA TRAIL | 62 |
| RAGTIME! | 65 |
| CHRISTMAS IN WARTIME | 68 |
| LINDISFAIRE | 70 |
| A PARABLE | 75 |
| FATE | 76 |
THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH
Men of the Twenty-first,
Up by the Chalk Pit Wood,
Weak from our wounds and our thirst,
Wanting our sleep and our food
After a day and a night.
God! shall I ever forget?
Beaten and broke in the fight,
But sticking it, sticking it yet,
Trying to hold the line,
Fainting and spent and done;
Always the thud and the whine,
Always the yell of the Hun.
Northumberland, Lancaster, York,
Durham and Somerset,
Fighting alone, worn to the bone,
But sticking it, sticking it yet.
Never a message of hope,
Never a word of cheer,
Fronting Hill 70's shell-swept slope,
With the dull, dead plain in our rear;
Always the shriek of the shell,
Always the roar of the burst,
Always the tortures of Hell,
As waiting and wincing we cursed
Our luck, the guns, and the Boche.
When our Corporal shouted “Stand to!”
And I hear some one cry, “Clear the front for the Guards!”—
And the Guards came through.
Our throats they were parched and hot,
But, Lord! if you'd heard the cheer,
Irish, Welsh and Scot,
Coldstream and Grenadier—
Two Brigades, if you please,
Dressing as straight as a hem.
We, we were down on our knees,
Praying for us and for them,
Praying with tear-wet cheek,
Praying with outstretched hand.
Lord! I could speak for a week,
But how could you understand?
How could your cheeks be wet?
Such feelin's don't come to you;
But how can me or my mates forget
How the Guards came through?
“Five yards left extend!”
It passed from rank to rank,
And line after line, with never a bend,
And a touch of the London swank.
A trifle of swank and dash,
Cool as a home parade,
Twinkle, glitter and flash,
Flinching never a shade,
With the shrapnel right in their face,
Doing their Hyde Park stunt,
Swinging along at an easy pace,
Arms at the trail, eyes front.
Man! it was great to see!
Man! it was great to do!
It's a cot, and a hospital ward for me,
But I'll tell them in Blighty wherever I be,
How the Guards came through.
VICTRIX
How was it then with England?
Her faith was true to her plighted word,
Her strong hand closed on her blunted sword,
Her heart rose high to the foeman's hate,
She walked with God on the hills of Fate—
And all was well with England.
How was it then with England?
Her soul was wrung with loss and pain,
Her face was grey with her heart's-blood drain,
But her falcon eyes were hard and bright,
Austere and cold as an ice-cave's light—
And all was well with England.
How was it then with England?
Little she said to foe or friend,
True, heart true, to the uttermost end,
Her passion cry was the scathe she wrought,
In flame and steel she voiced her thought—
And all was well with England.
How was it then with England?
With drooping sword and bended head,
She turned apart and mourned her dead,
Sad sky above, sad earth beneath,
She walked with God in the Vale of Death—
Ah, woe the day for England!
How is it now with England?
She sees upon her mist-girt path
Dim drifting shapes of fear and wrath.
Hold high the heart! Bend low the knee!
She has been guided, and will be—
And all is well with England.
THOSE OTHERS