60
BALLADS OF BATTLE
Turn on your side, but breathe a prayer
For the beggars you have left up" there."
For the beggars you have left up" there."
Then in the morn to stretch your legs,
And hear the hens cluck o'er their eggs;
And chanticleer's bestirring blare;
The whinnying of the Captain's mare;
Contented lowing of the kine,
Complacent grunting of the swine;
Chirping of birds beneath the caves,
Whisper of winds among the leaves,
And—sound that soul of man rejoices—
The pleasant hum of women's voices—
With all the cheery dins that be
In a farmyard community;
While sunlight bursting thro' the thatch
Burns in the black barn, patch and patch.
And hear the hens cluck o'er their eggs;
And chanticleer's bestirring blare;
The whinnying of the Captain's mare;
Contented lowing of the kine,
Complacent grunting of the swine;
Chirping of birds beneath the caves,
Whisper of winds among the leaves,
And—sound that soul of man rejoices—
The pleasant hum of women's voices—
With all the cheery dins that be
In a farmyard community;
While sunlight bursting thro' the thatch
Burns in the black barn, patch and patch.
- ↑ There is something slightly sardonic in the fact that the old Jacobite rant, "Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet?" which was used for the berousing and belabouring of the Whigs, should now do duty as Reveille to a Highland regiment. So, at least, it seems to one at seven o'clock of a cold winter's morning !
