Britain said, fight, and fight they would,
Though the Devil himself in sulphurous mood,
Came over that hideous hill.
Yea, stubborn, they stood, that hero band,
Where no soul hoped to live;
For five, 'gainst eighty, thousand men,
Were hopeless odds to give.
Yea, fought they on! 'Twas Friday eve,
When that demon gas drove down;
'Twas Saturday eve that saw them still
Grimly holding their own;
Sunday, Monday, saw them yet,
A steadily lessening band,
With "no surrender" in their hearts,
But the dream of far-off land,
Where mother and sister and love would weep
For the hushed heart lying still;—
But never a thought but to do their part,
And work the Empire's will.
Ringed round, hemmed in, and back to back,
They fought there under the dark,
And won for Empire, God and Right,
At grim, red Langemarck.
