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Andrew Barton Paterson (Эндрю Бартон Патерсон) The Reveille Trumpets of the Lancer Corps Sound a loud reveille; Sound it over Sydney shore, Send the message far and wide Down the Richmond River side. Boot and Saddle, mount and ride, Sound a loud reveille. Whither go ye, Lancers gay, With your bold reveille? O’er the ocean far away From your sunny southern home, Over leagues of trackless foam In a foreign land to roam, With your bold reveille. When we hear our brethren call, Sound a clear reveille. Then we answer, one and all, Answer that the world may see, Of the English stock are we, At their side we still will be, Sound a bold reveille. English troops are buried deep. Sound a soft reveille. In this foreign land asleep, Underneath Majuba Hill, Lying sleeping very still, Nevermore those squadrons will Answer to reveille. Onward without fear or doubt, Sound a bold reveille. ’Till that shame is blotted out. While our Empire’s bounds are wide, Britons all stand side by side, Boot and saddle, mount and ride. Hear the bold reveille. Andrew Barton Paterson's other poems:
Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1288 |
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