There they kept the old flag flying
Day by day and prayed relief,
Weary, wounded, doomed, and dying--
Gallant men and noble chief
By the leaden tempest stricken,
Grandly stood or grandly fell--
Peril had but power to quicken
Faith that owned such holy spell.
Not alone the foe without them
Menaced them with fire and shot,
Sickness creeping round about them,
Fever, dysentery, and rot,
Struck the rider and the stallion,
Making merry as at feast
On the pick of each battalion--
Ruthless, smiting man and beast.
None were spared and nothing holy,
For the fever claimed the best,
Now the high and now the lowly,
Now the baby at the breast,
All obeyed its mandate, drooping
In the fulness of their power,
Old and young before it stooping,
Bud and blossom, fruit and flower.
Hunger blanched their dauntless faces,
Furrowed with the lines of lack,
But with stern and stubborn paces
Still they drove the spoiler back.
Round them drew the iron tether
Tighter, but they kept their troth,
All for England's sake together--
Soldier and civilian both.
Death and ruin knock and enter,
Hearts may break and homesteads burn,
Yet from that lone faithful centre
Flashed red vengeance in return;
Guardian guns thence hurled defiance
From the brave who lightly took
All their blows in brave reliance,
Which no tempest ever shook.
Hand to hand they strove and wrestled
Stoutly for that pearl of pride,
Where mid flame and woe it nestled
Down with danger at its side.
Yet like boys released from class time,
Though the blast destroying blew,
There they played and found a pastime
While the Flag unconquered flew.