We wished him back; we could not know
The self-same hour we missed him here
He led the line that broke the foe.

Blood-red behind our guarded posts
Sank as of old and dying day;
The battle ceased; the mingled hosts
Weary and cheery went their way:

"To-morrow well may bring," we said,
"As fair a fight, as clear a sun."
Dear lad, before the world was sped,
For evermore thy goal was won.





On Spion Kop

Foremost of all on battle's fiery steep
Here VERTUE fell, and here he sleeps his sleep.*
A fairer name no Roman ever gave
To stand sole monument on Valour's grave.

* Major N. H. Vertue, of the Buffs, Brigade-Major to General
Woodgate, was buried where he fell, on the edge of Spion Kop,
in front of the British position.