1855.
"Advance!" was the cry that shot up to the sky
When the dawn of the day had begun;
And the steel glistened bright in the glad golden light
Of a glorious Eastern sun.
And the words rang clear, with no trembling fear--
"Brave Britons! on you I rely!"
And the answer pealed out with a mighty shout--
"Sebastopol falls, or we die!"
Advance!--Advance!--Men of England and France!
"Sebastopol falls, or we die!"
Now the death-storm pours, and the smoke up-soars,
And the battle rages with furious might,
And the red blood streams, and the fire-flash gleams,
And the writhing thousands--God! God! what a sight.
The hoarse-throated cannon belch fiery breath,
And hurl forth the murderous rain,
Which dances along on its message of death,
And sings o'er the dying and slain!
Crash! Crash! Then a leap and a dash!
Hand to hand--face to face, goes the fight;
The bayonets plunge, and the red streams plash,
And up goes a shout of delight--
"The enemy runs!--Men flinch from their guns!
On! Forward! For God and for Right!
Advance!--Advance!--Men of England and France!
Press forward, for Freedom and Right!
On--On--On! Hurrah! the goal's won;
See! the old colours flutter and dance,
And proudly they wave over Tyranny's grave:
Well done! Men of England and France--Hurrah!
Hurrah! for old England and France!"