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Poem by Arthur Conan Doyle «The Guards Came Through» (1919). 10. The Bugles of Canada The Farmer in the morning Stood with slanted head, In the wintry dawning By the milking-shed; From the camp behind the hill He could hear the bugles shrill, "We are here! We are here! Soldiers all! Good cheer! We are near! Ontario! Ontario! Toronto! Montreal!" Petherick, the Huntsman grey, Rheumatic, bent and blind. Wheezed his joy as far away He heard it in the wind. "Hark the Hounds ! Hark the Hounds!" Nay, it is the bugle sounds, "We are here! We are here! Soldiers all! Good cheer! We are near! Ontario! Ontario! Toronto! Montreal!" Lonely folk and fearful Rose above their fears; Mothers, sad and tearful, Were smiling through their tears ; 'Neath the cloudy English sky They heard the cheering bugles cry, "We are here! We are here! Soldiers all! We are near! Good cheer! Ontario! Ontario! Toronto! Montreal!" When the dusk was falling, And the lamps alight, You could hear them calling In the misty night. And old Sussex heard and blessed The kindly greeting from the west, "We are here! We are here! Soldiers all! We are near! Good cheer! Ontario! Ontario! Toronto! Montreal!" Arthur Conan Doyle Arthur Conan Doyle's other poems:
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