THE IRISH GUARDS.

New Zealand Tablet, 10 July 1919, Page 11

THE IRISH GUARDS.

| At a London matinee organised by Lady Paget in aid of the "Irish Guards" War Fund, the chief novelty was the recital by Mr. Henry Ainley of the following poem, entitled "The Irish Guards," specially written for the occasion by Mr. Rudyard Kipling :

We're not so old.in the Army List, *<W : ! : But we're not so young at our" trade, V 5? • For we had the honor at Fontenoy Of meeting the Guards Brigade. 'Twas Lally, Dillon, Bulkeley, Clare, And Lee that led us then, And after a hundred and seventy years We're fighting for France again! Old Days! The wild geese are fighting Head to the storm as they faced it before! . ._ For where there are Irish there's bound to be fighting,' And when there's no fighting, it's Ireland no more ! . ... _. . Ireland no more !

The fashion's all for khaki now, - But once through France we went, Full-dressed in scarlet Army cloth— The English—left at Ghent. They're fighting on our side to-day, ■"• But before the}' changed their clothes, The half of Europe knew our fame, As all of Ireland knows!

Old days! The wild geese are flying, Head to the storm as they faced it before, For where there are Irish there's memory undying, And when we forget it is Ireland no more !

Ireland no more !

From Barry Wood to Gouzeaucourt, From Boyne to Pilkem Ridge, The ancient days come back no more Than water under the bridge. But the bridge it stands and the water runs

As red as yesterday, And the Irish move to the sound of the guns Like salmon to the sea!

Old days! The wild geese are ranging Head to the storm as they faced it before. For where there are Irish their hearts are unchanging. And when they are changed, it is Ireland no more! Ireland no more !

We're not so old in the Army List, But we're not so new in the ring, For we carried . our packs with Marshal Saxe When Louis was our King. ■ But Douglas Haig's our Marshal now,- '; £*P And we're King George's men,: ,%. ■: t ■ '" ? '■■■■ I; And aftep one hundred-'' and seventy years % We're fighting for France again! Ah, France ! And did we stand by you When life was made splendid with gifts and rewards? Ah, France! And will we deny you In the hour of your agony, Mother of Swords? ", Old Days ! The wild geese are fighting, . Head to the storm as they faced it before, - For where there are Irish there's loving and fighting, And when we stop either, it's Ireland no more Li

Ireland no more