[Illustration]
“Leave me, comrades, here I drop,--
No, sir, take them on,
All are wanted, none should stop,
Duty must be done;
Those whose guard you take will find me
As they pass below.”
So the soldier spoke, and staggering,
Fell amid the snow;
And ever on the dreary heights,
Down came the snow.
“Men, it must be as he asks;
Duty must be done;
Far too few for half our tasks,
We can spare not one.
Wrap him in this; I need it less;
Fear not, they shall know;
Mark the place, yon stunted larch,--
Forward,”--on they go;
And silent on their silent march,
Down sank the snow.
O’er his features as he lies,
Calms the wrench of pain:
Close faint eyes, pass cruel skies,
Freezing mountain plain;
With far, soft sound, the stillness teems,
Church bells--voices low,
Passing into English dreams
There amid the snow;
And darkening, thickening o’er the heights,
Down fell the snow.
Looking, looking for the mark,
Down the others came,
Struggling through the snowdrifts stark,
Calling out his name;
“Here,--or there; the drifts are deep;
Have we passed him?”--No!
Look, a little growing heap,
Snow above the snow;
Where heavy on his heavy sleep,
Down fell the snow.
Strong hands raised him, voices strong
Spoke within his ears;
Ah! his dreams had softer tongue,
Neither now he hears.
One more gone for England’s sake,
Where so many go,
Lying down without complaint,
Dying in the snow;
Starving, striving for her sake,
Dying in the snow.
Simply done his soldier’s part,
Through long months of woe;
All endured with soldier heart,
Battle, famine, snow.
Noble, nameless, English heart,
Snow cold, in snow!