THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE ENGLISH AFTER ALL.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXV, Issue 14, 15 January 1913, Page 3

THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE ENGLISH AFTER ALL.

I’ve been meditating) lately that, when everything is told, There’s something in the English after all: They may be too bent on conquest and too eager after gold, But there’s something in the English after all; Though their sine and faults are many and I won’t exhaust my breath By endeavouring to tell you of them all, Yet they have a sense of duty, and they’ll face it to the death, So there’s something in the English after all.

If your wounded by a savage foe and bugles sound “retire,” There something In the English after all: Y T ou may bet your life they’ll carry you beyond the zone of fire, For there’s something in the English after all; Yes, although their guns be empty, and their blood be ebbing fast, And to stay by wounded comrades be to fall, Yet, they’ll set their teeth like bulldogs, and protect you to the last. Or they’ll die—like English soldiers—after all.

When the seas demand their tribute, and a British ship goes down, There’s something in the English after

all: There’s no panic rush for safety, where the weak are left to drown, For there’s something in the English

after all; But the -women and the children are

the first to leave the wreck, With the crew in hand, as steady as

a wall, And the captain is the last to stand upon the sinking dock, So there’s something in the English after all.

Though the half of Europe hates them, and would joy in their decline, Yet there’s something in the English after all: They may scorn the scanty numbers of the thin red British line Yet they fear its lean battalions after all; For they know that, from the Colonel to the drummer in the band, There is not a single soldier in them all, But would go to blind destruction were their country to command, And call it simply “duty”—after all. —Bertrand Shad well.