They made a war upon the land —In Freedom’s name, they said —To overthrow the rebel bandWith Kruger at its head.They made a war upon the land —And Britain’s bravest bled.
They drove the foeman from his field,They spoiled his tents afar,They saw his stubborn horsemen yieldOn reddened fields of war,Till like a worn-out meteor, reeledAnd sank his sullen star.
Nor man, nor home, nor beast they spared,The flames before them sped,And wild and high the roof tree flaredAbove the homeless head,And cannon growled, and trumpets blaredAbove the Burgher dead.
At last o’er barn, and byre, and street,Died down the flame of woe,The last resonant drum had beat,The last gun thundered low —There sat on Freedom’s lofty seatA Leper — white as snow.
Sources, publication & text notesReference details
Canonical recordPOEM-001956
Copy-textPitt — The Horses of the Hills and Other Verses (1911); selected digital copy-text retained exactly; retained page images control manifestation and meaningful layout under D-180/D-208; fresh OCR is alignment-only
While The Billy BoilsSearch