Songs of Action by Arthur Conan Doyle (simple ebook reader TXT) š
To the grey goose-feather
And the land where the grey goose flew.
What of the mark?
Ah, seek it not in England,
A bold mark, our old mark
Is waiting over-sea.
When the strings harp in chorus,
And the lion flag is o'er us,
It is there that our mark will be.
What of the men?
The men were bred in England:
The bowmen--the yeomen,
The lads of dale and fell.
Here's to you--and to you!
To the hearts that are true
And the land where the true hearts dwell.
CREMONA
[The French Army, including a part of the Irish Brigade, underMarshal Villeroy, held the fortified town of Cremona during thewinter of 1702. Prince Eugene, with the Imperial Army, surprised itone morning, and, owing to the treachery of a priest, occupied thewhole city before the alarm was given. Villeroy was captured,together with many of the French garrison. The Irish, however,consisting of the regime
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Ho, the bully rover Jack,
Reaching on the weather tack, Right across the Lowland sea!
So itās up and its over to Stornoway Bay, Pack it on! Crack it on! Try her with the stunsails! Itās off on a bowline to Stornoway Bay, Where the liquor is good and the lasses are gay:
Waiting for their bully Jack,
Watching for him sailing back, Right across the Lowland sea.
A BALLAD OF THE RANKSWho carries the gun?
A lad from over the Tweed. Then let him go, for well we know
He comes of a soldier breed. So drink together to rock and heather,
Out where the red deer run, And stand aside for Scotlandās pride -
The man that carries the gun!
For the Colonel rides before,
The Majorās on the flank,
The Captains and the Adjutant
Are in the foremost rank.
But when itās āAction front!ā
And fightingās to be done,
Come one, come all, you stand or fall
By the man who holds the gun.
Who carries the gun?
A lad from a Yorkshire dale. Then let him go, for well we know
The heart that never will fail. Hereās to the fire of Lancashire,
And hereās to her soldier son! For the hard-bit north has sent him forth -
The lad that carries the gun.
Who carries the gun?
A lad from a Midland shire. Then let him go, for well we know
He comes of an English sire. Hereās a glass to a Midland lass,
And each can choose the one, But east and west we claim the best
For the man that carries the gun.
Who carries the gun?
A lad from the hills of Wales. Then let him go, for well we know,
That Taffy is hard as nails. There are several llās in the place where he dwells,
And of wās more than one, With a āLlanā and a āpen,ā but it breeds good men,
And itās they who carry the gun.
Who carries the gun?
A lad from the windy west. Then let him go, for well we know
That he is one of the best. Thereās Bristol rough, and Gloucester tough,
And Devon yields to none. Or you may get in Somerset
Your lad to carry the gun.
Who carries the gun?
A lad from London town. Then let him go, for well we know
The stuff that never backs down. He has learned to joke at the powder smoke,
For he is the fog-smokeās son, And his heart is light and his pluck is right -
The man who carries the gun.
Who carries the gun?
A lad from the Emerald Isle. Then let him go, for well we know,
Weāve tried him many a while. Weāve tried him east, weāve tried him west,
Weāve tried him sea and land, But the man to beat old Erinās best
Has never yet been planned.
Who carries the gun?
Itās you, and you, and you; So let us go, and we wonāt say no
If they give us a job to do. Here we stand with a cross-linked hand,
Comrades every one; So one last cup, and drink it up
To the man who carries the gun!
For the Colonel rides before,
The Majorās on the flank,
The Captains and the Adjutant
Are in the foremost rank.
And when itās āAction front!ā
And thereās fighting to be done,
Come one, come all, you stand or fall
By the man who holds the gun.
A LAY OF THE LINKSItās up and away from our work to-day,
For the breeze sweeps over the down; And itās hey for a game where the gorse blossoms flame,
And the bracken is bronzing to brown. With the turf āneath our tread and the blue overhead,
And the song of the lark in the whin; Thereās the flag and the green, with the bunkers between -
Now will you be over or in?
The doctor may come, and weāll teach him to know
A tee where no tannin can lurk; The soldier may come, and weāll promise to show
Some hazards a soldier may shirk; The statesman may joke, as he tops every stroke,
That at last he is high in his aims; And the clubman will stand with a club in his hand
That is worth every club in St. Jamesā.
The palm and the leather come rarely together,
Gripping the driverās haft, And itās good to feel the jar of the steel
And the spring of the hickory shaft. Why trouble or seek for the praise of a clique?
A cleek here is common to all; And the lie that might sting is a very small thing
When compared with the lie of the ball.
Come youth and come age, from the study or stage,
From Bar or from Benchāhigh and low! A green you must use as a cure for the blues -
You drive them away as you go. Weāre outward bound on a long, long round,
And itās time to be up and away: If worry and sorrow come back with the morrow,
At least weāll be happy to-day.
THE DYING WHIPIt came from gettinā āeated, that was āow the thing begun, And āackinā back to kennels from a ninety-minute run; āI guess Iāve copped brownchitis,ā says I to brother Jack, Anā then afore I knowed it I was down upon my back.
At night there came a sweatinā as left me deadly weak, And my throat was sort of tickly anā it āurt me for to speak; Anā then there came an āackinā cough as wouldnāt leave alone, Anā then afore I knowed it I was only skin and bone
I never was a āeavy weight. I scaled at seven four, Anā rode at eight, or maybe at just a trifle more; And now Iāll stake my davy I wouldnāt scale at five, And Iād āold my own at catch-weights with the skinniest jock alive.
And the doctor says the reason why I sit anā cough an wheeze Is all along oā varmint, like the cheese-mites in the cheese; The smallest kind oā varmint, but varmint all the same, Microscopes or somethināāI forget the varmintsā name.
But I knows as Iām a goner. They never said as much, But I reads the peopleās faces, and I knows as I am such; Well, thereās āUrst to mind the āorses and the āounds can look to Jack, Though āe never was a patch on me in āandlinā of a pack.
Youāll maybe think Iām boastinā, but youāll find they all agree That thereās not a whip in Surrey as can āandle āounds like me; For I knew āem all from puppies, and Iād tell āem without fail - If I seed a tail a-wagginā, I could tell who wagged the tail.
And voicesāwhy, Lorā love you, itās more than I can āelp, It just comes kind of natural to know each whine anā yelp; You might take them twenty couple where you will and let āem run, Anā Iād listen by the coverside and name āem one by one.
I say itās kind of natural, for since I was a brat I never cared for readinā books, or fancy things like that; But give me āounds and āorses anā I was quite content, Anā I loved to ear āem talkinā and to wonder what they meant.
And when the āydrophoby came five year ago next May, When Nailer was beāavinā in a most owdacious way, I fixed āim soās āe couldnāt bite, my āands on neck anā back, Anā I āeaved āim from the kennels, and they say I saved the pack.
Anā when the Master āeard of it, āe up anā says, says āe, āIf that chap were a soldier man, theyād give āim the V.C.ā Which is some kind aā medal what they give to soldier men; Anā Master said if I were such I would āaā got it then.
Parson brought āis Bible and come to read to me; āAve what you like, thereās everythink within this Book,ā says āe. Says I, āTheyāve left the āorses out!ā Says āe, āYou are mistook;ā Anā āe up anā read a āeap of things about them from the Book.
And some of it amazinā fine; although Iām fit to swear No āorse would ever say āAh, ah!ā same as they said it there. Perāaps it was an āEbrew āorse the chap āad in his mind, But I never āeard an English āorse say nothinā of the kind.
Parson is a good āun. Iāve known āim from a lad; āTwas me as taught āim ridinā, anā āe rides uncommon bad; And he saysāBut āark anā listen! Thereās an āorn! I āeard it blow; Pull the blind from off the winder! Prop me up, and āold me so.
Theyāre drawinā the black āanger, just aside the Squireās grounds. āArk and listen! āArk and listen! Thereās the yappinā of the āounds: Thereās Fanny and Beltinker, and I āear old Boxer call; You see I wasnāt boastinā when I said I knew āem all.
Let me sit anā āold the bedrail! Now I see āem as they pass: Thereās Squire upon the Midland mare, a good āun on the grass; But this is closish country, and you wants a clever āorse When āalf the time youāre in the woods anā āalf among the gorse.
āArk to Jack aāolleringāa-bleatinā like a lamb. You wouldnāt think it now, perhaps, to see the thing I am; But there was a time the ladies used to linger at the meet Just to āear me callinā in the woods: my callinā was so sweet.
I see the crossroads corner, with the field awaitinā there, Thereās Purcell on āis piebald āorse, anā Doctor on the mare, And the Master on āis iron grey; she isnāt much to look, But I seed āer do clean twenty foot across the āeathly brook.
Thereās Captain Kane anā McIntyre anā āalf a dozen more, And two or three are āuntinā whom I never seed afore; Likely-lookinā chaps they be, well groomed and āorsed and dressed - I wish they could āa seen the pack when it was at its best.
Itās a check, and they are drawinā down the coppice for a scent, You can see as theyāve been runninā, for the āorses they are spent; Iāll lay the fox will break this way, downwind as sure as fate, Anā if he does youāll see the field come poundinā through our gate.
But, Maggie, whatās that slinkinā beside the cover?āSee! Now itās in the clover field, and goinā fast anā free, Itās āim, and they donāt see āim. Itās āim! āAlloo! āAlloo! My broken wind wonāt run to itāIāll leave the job to you.
There now I āear the music, and I know theyāre on his track; Oh, watch āem, Maggie, watch āem! Aināt they just a lovely pack! Iāve nursed āem through distemper, anā Iāve trained anā broke āem in, Anā my āeart it just goes out to them as if they was my kin.
Well, all things āas an endinā, as Iāve āeard the parson say, The āorse is cast, anā the āound is past, anā the āunter āas āis day; But my day was yesterday, so lay me down again. You can draw the curtain, Maggie, right across the winder pane.
MASTERMaster went a-hunting,
When the leaves were falling;
We saw him on the bridle path,
We heard him gaily calling. āOh master, master, come you back, For I have dreamed a dream so black!ā
A glint of steel from bit and heel,
The chestnut cantered faster;
A red flash seen amid the green,
And so good-bye to master.
Master came from hunting,
Two silent comrades bore him;
His eyes were dim, his face was white,
The mare was led before
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