THE CHILDREN.
They are coming, coming, Mother, from the hill-land and the prairie, Strong hands that held the ploughreins, grip the rifle and the sword; They are marching, marching, Mother, with the steadfast step and wary. To meet the Goth and Vandal, and the Arch Hun’s bloody horde.
They are coming, coming, coining— Oh, a million feet are drumming— They are beating out a battle-song, They are swinging into line. With the legions of the Homeland, With the myriads of their brothers, They are one in blood and impulse, Mother England, they are thine.
They , are coming, coming, Mother, from the bushland and the city, Strong hearts that beat for Britain, strong arms thy cause to fight; They are riding, riding, Mother, keen eyes bedimmed with pity For the War Field’s blameless victims who have braved the Prussiou might.
They are riding, riding, riding, Gay of heart and death deriding, They are jingling out a measure That the heart of man shall move. They shall canter with their cousins, They shall gallop with their brothers, For the King and for tire Empire They again their kinship prove.
They arc tramping, tramping, Mother, from the jungle to the ocean, They are coming from the kopje from the veldt Sown to the shore; On the highways of the Empire they write with proud devotion A Book of Fate, the like of which has ne’er been writ before.
They are writing, writing, writing, With bloody quill inditing, They shall help to pen the story Of a loathly Terror past. They shall bless thee, Mother England For thy counsel and protection, And yield thee stalwart service As long as life shall last.
We are praying, praying. Mother, at thy knees. Oh, Cod of Thunder, Teach Thou our lingers fighting, and our hands the art of war; Give Thou our just cause blessing, may wo never halt or blunder Till the foul Hun is vanquished, and Peace reigns near and far.
We are praying, praying, praying, Cod of Patties, hear us saying, With hands upon the rifle And the sabre, “We shall fight ’Gainst the cowardly oppressor, ’Gainst the smiter of the children; Priug us the Day of Vengeance, God speed us in the right!” —CLAUDE L JEWELL, Auckland,
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Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXV, Issue 15, 19 January 1915, Page 2
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374THE CHILDREN. Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXV, Issue 15, 19 January 1915, Page 2
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