TROOPS to our England true Faring to Flanders, God be with all of you And your commanders. Clear be the sky o'erhead, Light be the landing: Not till the work is sped Be your disbanding. On the old battle-ground Where fought your fathers, Faithful shall ye be found When the storm gathers. Fending a little friend Weak but unshaken— Quick! there's no time to spend Or the fort's taken. Though he defy his foes, He may go under. Quick! ere the battle close Speed with your thunder. He hath his all at stake: More can have no man. Quick! ere the barrier break On to the foeman. Troops to this England true And your commanders, God be with all of you Fighting in Flanders. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EVENING WIND by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY by ROBERT HERRICK TO FOREIGN LANDS by WALT WHITMAN SIX TOWN ECLOGUES: SATURDAY; THE SMALL-POX by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU SONNET: 3 by RICHARD BARNFIELD TO AN ASTRONOMER by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA TENNESSEE; PRIZE CENTENNIAL ODE (1896) by VIRGINIA FRAZER BOYLE |