Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The Worlds Best Poetry. Volume VIII. National Spirit. 1904. | | III. War | The Three Scars | George Walter Thornbury (18281876) |
| THIS I got on the day that Goring | |
Fought through York, like a wild beast roaring | |
The roofs were black, and the streets were full, | |
The doors built up with packs of wool; | |
But our pikes made way through a storm of shot, | 5 |
Barrel to barrel till locks grew hot; | |
Frere fell dead, and Lucas was gone, | |
But the drum still beat and the flag went on. | |
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This I caught from a swinging sabre, | |
All I had from a long nights labor; | 10 |
When Chester 1 flamed, and the streets were red, | |
In splashing shower fell the molten lead, | |
The fire sprang up, and the old roof split, | |
The fire-ball burst in the middle of it; | |
With a clash and a clang the troopers they ran, | 15 |
For the siege was over ere well began. | |
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This I got from a pistol butt | |
(Lucky my head s not a hazel nut); | |
The horse they raced, and scudded and swore; | |
There were Leicestershire gentlemen, seventy score; | 20 |
Up came the Lobsters, covered with steel | |
Down we went with a stagger and reel; | |
Smash at the flag, I tore it to rag, | |
And carried it off in my foraging bag. | |
| Note 1. Siege of Chester, in the civil war, 1645. [back] | |
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