Page:Poems Craik.djvu/47

 Willie, listen to the bells
   Ringing through the town to-day.
 That 's for victory. Ah, no knells
   For the many swept away,—
 Hundreds—thousands! Let us weep,
 We who need not,—just to keep
 Reason steady in my brain
 Till the morning comes again,
 Till the third dread morning tell
 Who they were that fought and fell
   By the Alma river.

 Come, we 'll lay us down, my child,
   Poor the bed is, poor and hard;
 Yet thy father, far exiled,
   Sleeps upon the open sward,
 Dreaming of us two at home:
 Or beneath the starry dome
 Digs out trenches in the dark,
 Where he buries—Willie, mark—
 Where he buries those who died
 Fighting bravely at his side
   By the Alma river.

 Willie, Willie, go to sleep,
   God will keep us, my boy;
 He will make the dull hours creep
   Faster, and send news of joy,