THURSDAY FEBRUARY 8, 1872

— A Crimean Incident — 1856

“Give us a song!” the soldiers cried, The sentry, tobacco guarding. When he heard a gun of the “Camp Alive” Had ceased for a time from firing. The dark Redan in silent sleep Lay, grim and threatening under, And the tawny muzzle of the “Malakoff” No longer belched its thunder—

“There was a pause”—the guardsman said “We storm the fort tomorrow; Sing while we may, another day Will bring enough of sorrow”—

They lay along the Battery’s side Below the smoking cannon— Poor hearts from Crimea—“The Clyde” And from the banks of Shannon— They sang of love, and not of fame Though that was Britain’s glory. Each heart recalled a different name But all sang “Annie Laurie.”

Once after [illegible] caught up the song, While it tender [illegible], Pure like an anthem rich and strong. Their “Battle-eve Confession.”

“Dear girl!” thy name, he dared not speak, Yet as the song grew louder, Something upon the soldier’s cheek Was washed at the thought [illegible].