The Poet's Corner.

Dunstan Times, Issue 1001, 24 June 1881, Page 3

The Poet's Corner.

CANDAHAR, (March 25th, 1881.) Haul down the Jingo fla«'! Nevermore to stream Over Indian hill and crag, Where British bayonets gleam. Hope bids a long farewell Honor fli.>s afar, No tongue our grief can tell To leave Candahar. Where shall our soldiers turn Showing all their force and skill ; No more towns to burn. No more men to kill? Oh, the cruel shame of it Spread through near and far. Britans hate the name of it - Lost Condahar ! Elcbo sheds a bitter tear, ■ Bartlett’s looking wild, Every rifle volunteer Ts s ibbing like a child.s Some have, mourning, gone to seek I Vunfort at the bar. Oth“r's. struggling, strive to speak Their grief for Candahar.

Thev never, never can forget Oh. no, too truly never— That England’s sun at last has set, Ami, set, alas, for over. It’s true that son mial’t rise again ; What is there to debar? Ah, yes, Inii not—it’s all too plain, Not—not—on Can'tahar.

Then lav aside the flaunting flag Which led ns on to plunder ; In sile ee fold the glorious rag. And bottln England’s thunder. Great J ingo’s power is broken, Thev’ve hurled him from his car ; His last commands are spoken— He sleeps at Candahar. Vet faithful to the last Some gallant hearts have been ; His latest vote was oast, Two hundred and sixteen. Two hundred and sixteen ! How staunch and true they are To country and to Queen, And to sacred Candahar. And they’ll keep their courage up, Despite this grievous story, And still they’ll quaff the cup To England and to glory. And Hope shall point them to a day, Perhaps not distant far, When somewhere else they’ll burn and slay— Though not at Candrhir.