Poem by Henry Newbolt

The Grenadier's Good-Bye

"When Lieutenant Murray fell, the only words he spoke were,
'Forward, Grenadiers!'"—-Press Telegram.

Here they halted, here once more
  Hand from hand was rent;
Here his voice above the roar
  Rang, and on they went.
Yonder out of sight they crossed,
  Yonder died the cheers;
One word lives where all is lost—-
  "Forward, Grenadiers!"

This alone he asked of fame,
  This alone of pride;
Still with this he faced the flame,
  Answered Death, and died.
Crest of battle sunward tossed,
  Song of the marching years,
This shall live though all be lost—-
  "Forward, Grenadiers!"

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