_Imprimis_ was J. D. Bernard.
"_Grande Joe_," still sturdy, stout and strong.
Long be he so! Will o'er my song,
Bend kindly, and perhaps may sigh,
While rapidly o'er days gone by,
He wanders back in memory.
Aye, sigh, for when he look's around,
How few, alas! can now be found,
Who heard the shrill meridian sound
Of Cameron's bugle from the hill,
How few, alas! are living still--
How few who saw in pride pass on
The Sappers with their scarlet on,
Their hackle plumes and scales of brass,
Their stately tread as on they pass.
I seem to see them through the shade
Of years, in warlike pomp arrayed,
Marching in splendid order past,
Their bugles ringing on the blast,
Their bayonets glittering in the sun,
The vision fades, the dream is done.
Below the Bridge, at least below,
Where stands the Sappers' structure now,
You had to pass in going down
From Upper to the Lower Town;
For, reader, then, no bridge was there,
Where afterwards with wondrous care,
And skilful hands; the Sappers made
That arch which casts into the shade
All other arches in the land,