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Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

A Christmas Carol

 Welcome, sweet Christmas, blest be the morn
That Christ our Saviour was born!
Earth's Redeemer, to save us from all danger,
And, as the Holy Record tells, born in a manger.
Chorus -- Then ring, ring, Christmas bells, Till your sweet music o'er the kingdom swells, To warn the people to respect the morn That Christ their Saviour was born.
The snow was on the ground when Christ was born, And the Virgin Mary His mother felt very forlorn As she lay in a horse's stall at a roadside inn, Till Christ our Saviour was born to free us from sin.
Oh! think of the Virgin Mary as she lay In a lowly stable on a bed of hay, And angels watching O'er her till Christ was born, Therefore all the people should respect Christmas morn.
The way to respect Christmas time Is not by drinking whisky or wine, But to sing praises to God on Christmas morn, The time that Jesus Christ His Son was born; Whom He sent into the world to save sinners from hell And by believing in Him in heaven we'll dwell; Then blest be the morn that Christ was born, Who can save us from hell, death, and scorn.
Then he warned, and respect the Saviour dear, And treat with less respect the New Year, And respect always the blessed morn That Christ our Saviour was born.
For each new morn to the Christian is dear, As well as the morn of the New Year, And he thanks God for the light of each new morn.
Especially the morn that Christ was born.
Therefore, good people, be warned in time, And on Christmas morn don't get drunk with wine But praise God above on Christmas morn, Who sent His Son to save us from hell and scorn.
There the heavenly babe He lay In a stall among a lot of hay, While the Angel Host by Bethlehem Sang a beautiful and heavenly anthem.
Christmas time ought to be held most dear, Much more so than the New Year, Because that's the time that Christ was born, Therefore respect Christmas morn.
And let the rich be kind to the poor, And think of the hardships they do endure, Who are neither clothed nor fed, And Many without a blanket to their bed.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Captain Teach alias Black Beard

 Edward Teach was a native of Bristol, and sailed from that port
On board a privateer, in search of sport,
As one of the crew, during the French War in that station,
And for personal courage he soon gained his Captain's approbation.
'Twas in the spring of 1717, Captajn Harnigold and Teach sailed from Providence For the continent of America, and no further hence; And in their way captured a vessel laden with flour, Which they put on board their own vessels in the space of an hour.
They also seized two other vessels snd took some gallons of wine, Besides plunder to a considerable value, and most of it most costly design; And after that they made a prize of a large French Guinea-man, Then to act an independent part Teach now began.
But the news spread throughout America, far and near, And filled many of the inhabitants' hearts with fear; But Lieutenant Maynard with his sloops of war directly steered, And left James River on the 17th November in quest of Black Beard, And on the evening of the 21st came in sight of the pirate; And when Black Beard spied his sloops he felt elate.
When he saw the sloops sent to apprehend him, He didn't lose his courage, but fiendishly did grin; And told his men to cease from drinking and their tittle-tattle, Although he had only twenty men on board, and prepare for battle.
In case anything should happen to him during the engagement, One of his men asked him, who felt rather discontent, Whether his wife knew where he had buried his pelf, When he impiously replied that nobody knew but the devil and himself.
In the Morning Maynard weighed and sent his boat to sound, Which, coming near the pirate, unfortunately ran aground; But Maynard lightened his vessel of the ballast and water, Whilst from the pirates' ship small shot loudly did clatter.
But the pirates' small shot or slugs didn't Maynard appal, He told his men to take their cutlasses and be ready upon his call; And to conceal themselves every man below, While he would remain at the helm and face the foe.
Then Black Beard cried, "They're all knocked on the head," When he saw no hand upon deck he thought they were dead; Then Black Beard boarded Maynard'a sloop without dismay, But Maynard's men rushed upon deck, then began the deadly fray.
Then Black Beard and Maynard engaged sword in hand, And the pirate fought manfully and made a bold stand; And Maynard with twelve men, and Black Beard with fourteen, Made the most desperate and bloody conflict that ever was seen.
At last with shots and wounds the pirate fell down dead, Then from his body Maynard severed the pirate's head, And suspended it upon his bowsprit-end, And thanked God Who so mercifully did him defend.
Black Beard derived his name from his long black beard, Which terrified America more than any comet that had ever appeared; But, thanks be to God, in this age we need not be afeared, Of any such pirates as the inhuman Black Beard.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Womens Suffrage

 Fellow men! why should the lords try to despise
And prohibit women from having the benefit of the parliamentary Franchise?
When they pay the same taxes as you and me,
I consider they ought to have the same liberty.
And I consider if they are not allowed the same liberty, From taxation every one of them should be set free; And if they are not, it is really very unfair, And an act of injustice I most solemnly declare.
Women, farmers, have no protection as the law now stands; And many of them have lost their property and lands, And have been turned out of their beautiful farms By the unjust laws of the land and the sheriffs' alarms.
And in my opinion, such treatment is very cruel; And fair play, 'tis said, is a precious jewel; But such treatment causes women to fret and to dote, Because they are deprived of the parliamentary Franchise vote.
In my opinion, what a man pays for he certainly should get; And if he does not, he will certainly fret; And why wouldn't women do the very same? Therefore, to demand the parliamentary Franchise they are not to blame.
Therefore let them gather, and demand the parliamentary Franchise; And I'm sure no reasonable man will their actions despise, For trying to obtain the privileges most unjustly withheld from them; Which Mr.
Gladstone will certainly encourage and never condemn.
And as for the working women, many are driven to the point of starvation, All through the tendency of the legislation; Besides, upon members of parliament they have no claim As a deputation, which is a very great shame.
Yes, the Home Secretary of the present day, Against working women's deputations, has always said- nay; Because they haven't got the parliamentary Franchise-, That is the reason why he does them despise.
And that, in my opinion, is really very unjust; But the time is not far distant, I most earnestly trust, When women will have a parliamentary vote, And many of them, I hope, will wear a better petticoat.
And I hope that God will aid them in this enterprise, And enable them to obtain the parliamentary Franchise; And rally together, and make a bold stand, And demand the parliamentary Franchise throughout Scotland.
And do not rest day nor night- Because your demands are only right In the eyes of reasonable men, and God's eyesight; And Heaven, I'm sure, will defend the right.
Therefore go on brave women! and never fear, Although your case may seem dark and drear, And put your trust in God, for He is strong; And ye will gain the parliamentary Franchise before very long.

More great poems below...

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

A Descriptive Poem on the Silvery Tay

 Beautiful silvery Tay,
With your landscapes, so lovely and gay,
Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way;
No other river in the world has got scenery more fine,
Only I am told the beautiful Rhine,
Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine,
Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its waters sublime,
And the beautiful ship Mars,
With her Juvenile Tare,
Both lively and gay,
Does carelessly lie By night and by day,
In the beautiful Bay
Of the silvery Tay.
Beautiful, beautiful silvery Tay, Thy scenery is enchanting on a fine summer day, Near by Balnerino it is beautiful to behold, When the trees are in full bloom and the cornfields seems like gold - And nature's face seems gay, And the lambkins they do play, And the humming bee is on the wing, It is enough to make one sing, While they carelessly do stray, Along the beautiful banks of the silvery Tay, Beautiful silvery Tay, Rolling smoothly on your way, Near by Newport, as clear as the day, Thy scenery around is charming I'll be bound.
And would make the heart of any one feel light and gay on a fine summer day, To view the beautiful scenery along the banks of the silvery Tay.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Calamity in London

 'Twas in the year of 1897, and on the night of Christmas day,
That ten persons' lives were taken sway,
By a destructive fire in London, at No.
9 Dixie Street, Alas! so great was the fire, the victims couldn't retreat.
In Dixie Street, No.
9, if was occupied by two families, Who were all quite happy, and sitting at their ease; One of these was a labourer, David Barber and his wife, And a dear little child, he loved as his life.
Barber's mother and three sisters were living on the ground floor, And in the upper two rooms lived a family who were very poor, And all had retired to rest, on the night of Christmas day, Never dreaming that by ~e their lives would be taken away.
Barber got up on Sunday morning to prepare breakfast for his family, And a most appalling sight he then did see; For he found the room was full of smoke, So dense, indeed, that it nearly did him choke.
Then fearlessly to the room door he did creep, And tried to aronse the inmates, who were asleep; And succeeded in getting his own family out into the street, And to him the thought thereof was surely very sweet.
And by this time the heroic Barber's strength was failing, And his efforts to warn the family upstairs were unavailing; And, before the alarm was given, the house was in flames, Which prevented anything being done, after all his pains.
Oh! it was a horrible and heart-rending sight To see the house in a blaze of lurid light, And the roof fallen in, and the windows burnt out, Alas! 'tis pitiful to relate, without any doubt.
Oh, Heaven! 'tis a dreadful calamity to narrate, Because the victims have met with a cruel fate; Little did they think they were going to lose their lives by fire, On that night when to their beds they did retire.
It was sometime before the gutted house could be entered in, Then to search for the bodies the officers in charge did begin; And a horrifying spectacle met their gaze, Which made them stand aghast in a fit of amaze.
Sometime before the firemen arrived, Ten persons of their lives had been deprived, By the choking smoke, and merciless flame, Which will long in the memory of their relatives remain.
Oh, Heaven! if was a frightful and pitiful sight to see Seven bodies charred of the Jarvis' family; And Mrs Jarvis was found with her child, and both carbonised, And as the searchers gazed thereon they were surprised.
And these were lying beside the fragments of the bed, And in a chair the tenth victim was sitting dead; Oh, Horrible! Oh, Horrible! what a sight to behold, The charred and burnt bodies of young and old.
Good people of high and low degree, Oh! think of this sad catastrophe, And pray to God to protect ye from fire, Every night before to your beds ye retire.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

The Ancient Town of Leith

 Ancient town of Leith, most wonderful to be seen,
With your many handsome buildings, and lovely links so green,
And the first buildings I may mention are the Courthouse and Town Hall,
Also Trinity House, and the Sailors' Home of Call.
Then as for Leith Fort, it was erected in 1779, which is really grand, And which is now the artillery headquarters in Bonnie Scotland; And as for the Docks, they are magnificent to see, They comprise five docks, two piers, 1,141 yards long respectively.
And there's steamboat communication with London and the North of Scotland, And the fares are really cheap and the accommodation most grand; Then there's many public works in Leith, such as flour mills, And chemical works, where medicines are made for curing many ills.
Besides, there are sugar refineries and distilleries, Also engineer works, saw-mills, rope-works, and breweries, Where many of the inhabitants are daily employed, And the wages they receive make their hearts feel overjoyed.
In past times Leith shared the fortunes of Edinboro', Because if withstood nine months' siege, which caused them great sorrow; They fought against the Protestants in 1559 and in '60, But they beat them back manfully and made them flee.
Then there's Bailie Gibson's fish shop, most elegant to be seen, And the fish he sells there are, beautiful and clean; And for himself, he is a very good man, And to deny it there's few people can.
The suburban villas of Leith are elegant and grand, With accommodation that might suit the greatest lady in the land; And the air is pure and good for the people's health, And health, I'm sure, is better by far than wealth.
The Links of Leith are beautiful for golfers to play, After they have finished the toils of the day; It is good for their health to play at golf there, On that very beautiful green, and breathe the pure air.
The old town of Leith is situated at the junction of the River of Leith, Which springs from the land of heather and heath; And no part in the Empire is growing so rapidly, Which the inhabitants of Leith are right glad to see.
And Leith in every way is in itself independent, And has been too busy to attend to its own adornment; But I venture to say and also mention That the authorities to the town will pay more attention.
Ancient town of Leith, I must now conclude my muse, And to write in praise of thee my pen does not refuse, Because the inhabitants to me have been very kind, And I'm sure more generous people would be hard to find.
They are very affable in temper and void of pride, And I hope God will always for them provide; May He shower His blessings upon them by land and sea, Because they have always been very kind to me.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Lines in Defence of the Stage

 Good people of high and low degree,
I pray ye all be advised by me,
And don't believe what the clergy doth say,
That by going to the theatre you will be led astray.
No, in the theatre we see vice punished and virtue rewarded, The villain either hanged or shot, and his career retarded; Therefore the theatre is useful in every way, And has no inducement to lead the people astray.
Because therein we see the end of the bad men, Which must appall the audience - deny it who can Which will help to retard them from going astray, While witnessing in a theatre a moral play.
The theatre ought to be encouraged in every respect, Because example is better than precept, And is bound to have a greater effect On the minds of theatre-goers in every respect.
Sometimes in theatres, guilty creatures there have been Struck to the soul by the cunning of the scene; By witnessing a play wherein murder is enacted, They were proven to be murderers, they felt so distracted, And left the theatre, they felt so much fear, Such has been the case, so says Shakespeare.
And such is my opinion, I will venture to say, That murderers will quake with fear on seeing murder in a play.
Hamlet discovered his father's murderer by a play That he composed for the purpose, without dismay, And the king, his uncle, couldn't endure to see that play, And he withdrew from the scene without delay.
And by that play the murder was found out, And clearly proven, without any doubt; Therefore, stage representation has a greater effect On the minds of the people than religious precept.
We see in Shakespeare's tragedy of Othello, which is sublime, Cassio losing his lieutenancy through drinking wine; And, in delirium and grief, he exclaims - "Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!" A young man in London went to the theatre one night To see the play of George Barnwell, and he got a great fright; He saw George Barnwell murder his uncle in the play, And he had resolved to murder his uncle, but was stricken with dismay.
But when he saw George Barnwell was to be hung The dread of murdering his uncle tenaciously to him clung, That he couldn't murder and rob his uncle dear, Because the play he saw enacted filled his heart with fear.
And, in conclusion, I will say without dismay, Visit the theatre without delay, Because the theatre is a school of morality, And hasn't the least tendency to lead to prodigality.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Saved by Music

 At on time, in America, many years ago,
Large gray wolves wont to wander to and fro;
And from the farm yards they carried pigs and calves away,
Which they devoured ravenously, without dismay.
But, as the story goes, there was a negro fiddler called old Dick, Who was invited by a wedding party to give them music, In the winter time, when the snow lay thick upon the ground, And the rivers far and near were frozen all around.
So away went Dick to the wedding as fast as he could go, Walking cautiously along o'er the crisp and crackling snow, And the path was a narrow one, the greater part of the way Through a dark forest, which filled his heart with dismay.
And when hurrying onward, not to be late at the festival, He heard the howl of a wolf, which did his heart appal, And the howl was answered, and as the howl came near Poor Old Dick, fiddle in hand, began to shake with fear.
And as the wolves gathered in packs from far and near, Old Dick in the crackling bushes did them hear, And they ran along to keep pace with him, Then poor Dick began to see the danger he was in.
And every few minutes a wolf would rush past him with a snap, With a snapping sound like the ring of a steel trap, And the pack of wolves gathered with terrible rapidity, So that Dick didn't know whether to stand or flee.
And his only chance, he thought, was to keep them at bay By preserving the greatest steadiness without dismay, Until he was out of the forest and on open ground, Where he thought a place of safety might be found.
He remembered an old hut stood in the clearing, And towards it he was slowly nearing, And the hope of reaching it urged him on, But he felt a trifle dispirited and woe-begone.
And the poor fellow's heart with fear gave a bound, When he saw the wolves' green eyes glaring all around, And they rushed at him boldly, one after another, Snapping as they passed, which to him was great bother.
And Dick sounded his fiddle and tried to turn them back, And the sound caused the wolves to leap back in a crack, When Dick took to his heels at full run, But now poor Dick's danger was only begun: For the wolves pursued him without delay, But Dick arrived at the hut in great dismay, And had just time to get on the roof and play, And at the strains of the music the wolves felt gay.
And for several hours he sat there in pain, Knowing if he stopped playing the wolves would be at him again, But the rage of the wolves abated to the subduing strains, And at last he was rewarded for all his pains: For the wedding-party began to weary for some music, And they all came out to look for old Dick, And on top of the hut they found him fiddling away, And they released him from his dangerous position without delay.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Descriptive Jottings of London

 As I stood upon London Bridge and viewed the mighty throng
Of thousands of people in cabs and 'busses rapidly whirling along,
All furiously driving to and fro,
Up one street and down another as quick as they could go: 

Then I was struck with the discordant sound of human voices there,
Which seemed to me like wild geese cackling in the air:
And the river Thames is a most beautiful sight,
To see the steamers sailing upon it by day and by night.
And the Tower of London is most gloomy to behold, And the crown of Englandlies there, begemmed with precious stones and gold; King Henry the Sixth was murdered there by the Duke of Glo'ster, And when he killed him with his sword he called him an impostor.
Paul's Cathedral is the finest building that ever I did see; There's nothing can surpass it in the city of Dundee, Because it's most magnificent to behold With its beautiful dome and spire glittering like gold.
And as for Nelson's Monument that stands in Trafalgar Square, It is a most stately monument I most solemnly declare, And towering defiantly very high, Which arrests strangers' attention while passing by.
Then there's two beautiful water-fountains spouting up very high, Where the weary travellers can drink when he feels dry; And at the foot of the monument there's three bronze lions in grand array, Enough to make the stranger's heart throb with dismay.
Then there's Mr Spurgeon, a great preacher, which no one dare gainsay I went to hear him preach on the Sabbath-day.
And he made my heart feel light and gay When I heard him preach and pray.
And the Tabernacle was crowded from ceiling to floor, And many were standing outside the door; He is an eloquent preacher, I solemnly declare, And I was struck with admiration as I on him did stare.
Then there's Petticoat Lane I venture to say, It's a wonderful place on the Sabbath day; There wearing apparel can be bought to suit the young or old For the ready cash-- silver, coppers, or gold.
Oh! mighty city of London! you are wonderful to see, And thy beauties no doubt fill the tourist's heart with glee; But during my short stay, and while wandering there, Mr Spurgeon was the only man I heard speaking proper English I do declare.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Jottings of New York

 Oh, mighty city of New York, you are wonderful to behold--
Your buildings are magnificent-- the truth be it told--
They were the only thing that seemed to arrest my eye,
Because many of them are thirteen storeys high;

And as for Central Park, it is lovely to be seen--
Especially in the summer season when its shrubberies are green
And the Burns Statue is there to be seen,
Surrounded by trees on the beautiful sward so green;
Also Shakespeare and the immortal Sir Walter Scott,
Which by Scotchmen and Englishmen will never be forgot.
There are people on the Sabbath day in thousands resort-- All lov'd, in conversation, and eager for sport; And some of them viewing the wild beasts there, While the joyous shouts of children does rend the air-- And also beautiful black swans, I do declare.
And there's beautiful boats to be seen there, And joyous shouts of children does rend the air, While the boats sail along with them o'er Lohengrin Lake, And fare is 5 cents for children, and adults ten is all they take.
And there's also summer-house shades, and merry-go-rounds And with the merry laughter of the children the Park resounds, During the live-long Sabbath day Enjoying themselves at the merry-go-round play.
Then there's the elevated railroads abont five storeys high, Which the inhabitants can hear night and day passing by; Of, such a mass of people there daily do throng-- No less than five 100,000 daily pass along; And all along the city you can get for five cents-- And, believe me, among the passengers there's few discontent.
And the top of the houses are mostly all flat, And in the warm weather the people gather to chat; Besides, on the housetops they dry their clothes; And, also, many people all night on the housetops repose.
And numerous ships end steamboats are there to be seen, Sailing along the East River water, which is very green-- Which is certainly a most beautiful sight To see them sailing o'er the smooth water day and night.
And as for Brooklyn Bridge, it's a very great height, And fills the stranger's heart with wonder at first sight; And with all its loftiness I venture to say It cannot surpass the new railway bridge of the Silvery Tay.
And there's also ten thousand rumsellers there-- Oh, wonderful to think of, I do declare! To accommodate the people of New York therein, And to encourage them to commit all sorts of sin.
And on the Sabbath day ye will see many a man Going for beer with a big tin can, And seems proud to be seen carrying home the beer To treat his neighbours and his family dear.
Then at night numbers of the people dance and sing, Making the walls of their houses to ring With their songs and dancing on Sabbath night, Which I witnessed with disgust, and fled from the sight.
And with regard to New York and the sights I did see-- Believe me, I never saw such sights in Dundee; And the morning I sailed from the city of New York My heart it felt as light as a cork.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

The Capture of Havana

 'Twas in the year 1762 that France and Spain
Resolved, allied together, to crush Britain;
But the British Army sailed from England in May,
And arrived off Havana without any delay.
And the British Army resolved to operate on land, And the appearance of the British troops were really grand; And by the Earl of Albemarle the British troops were commanded, All eager for to fight as soon as they were landed.
Arduous and trying was the work the British had to do, Yet with a hearty goodwill they to it flew; While the tropical sun on them blazed down, But the poor soldiers wrought hard and didn't frown.
The bombardment was opened on the 30th of June, And from the British battleships a fierce cannonade did boom; And continued from six in the morning till two o'clock in the afternoon, And with grief the French and Spaniards sullenly did gloom.
And by the 26th of July the guns of Fort Moro were destroyed, And the French and Spaniards were greatly annoyed; Because the British troops entered the Fort without dismay, And drove them from it at the bayonet charge without delay.
But for the safety of the city the Governor organised a night attack, Thinking to repulse the British and drive them back; And with fifteen hundred militia he did the British attack, But the British trench guards soon drove them back.
Then the Spandiards were charged and driven down the hill, At the point of the bayonet sore against their will; And they rushed to their boats, the only refuge they could find, Leaving a trail of dead and wounded behind.
Then Lieutenant Forbes, at the head of his men, Swept round the ramparts driving all before them; And with levelled bayonets they drove them to and fro, Then the British flag was hoisted over the bastions of Moro.
Then the Governor of the castle fell fighting sword in hand, While rallying his men around the flagstaff the scene was grand; And the Spaniards fought hard to save their ships of war, But the British destroyed their ships and scattered them afar.
And every man in the Moro Fort was bayonet or shot, Which in Spanish history will never be forgot; And on the 10th of August Lord Albemarle sent a flag of truce, And summoned the Governor to surrender, but he seemed to refuse.
Then from the batteries the British opened a terrific fire, And the Spaniards from their guns were forced to retire, Because no longer could they the city defend; Then the firing ceased and hostilities were at an end.
Then the city of Havana surrendered unconditionally, And terms were settled, and the harbour, forts, and city, With a district of one hundred miles to the westward, And loads of gold and silver were the British troops' reward.
And all other valuable property was brought to London, The spoils that the British Army had won; And it was conveyed in grand procession to the Tower of London, And the Londoners applauded the British for the honours they had won.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

The Convicts Return

 Ye mountains and glens of fair Scotland I'm with ye once again,
During my absence from ye my heart was like to break in twain;
Oh! How I longed to see you and the old folks at home,
And with my lovely Jeannie once more in the green woods to roam.
Now since I've returned safe home again I will try and be content With my lovely Jeannie at home, And forget my banishment.
My Jeannie and me will get married, And I will be to her a good man, And we'll live happy together, And do the best we can.
I hope my Jeannie and me Will always happy be, And never feel discontent; And at night at the fireside I'll relate to her the trials of my banishment.
But now I will never leave my Jeannie again Until the day I die; And before the vital spark has fled I will bid ye all good-bye.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

The Battle of Corunna

 'Twas in the year of 1808, and in the autumn of the year,
Napoleon resolved to crush Spain and Portugal without fear;
So with a mighty army three hundred thousand strong
Through the passes of the Pyrenees into spain he passed along.
But Sir John Moore concentrated his troops in the north, And into the west corner of Spain he boldly marched forth; To cut off Napoleon's communications with France He considered it to be advisable and his only chance.
And when Napoleon heard of Moore's coming, his march he did begin, Declaring that he was the only General that could oppose him; And in the month of December, when the hills were clad with snow, Napoleon's army marched over the Guadiana Hills with their hearts full of woe.
And with fifty thousand cavalry, infantry, and artillery, Napoleon marched on, facing obstacles most dismal to see; And performed one of the most rapid marches recorded in history, Leaving the command of his army to Generals Soult and Ney.
And on the 5th of January Soult made his attack, But in a very short time the French were driven back; With the Guards and the 50th Regiment and the 42d conjoint, They were driven from the village of Elnina at the bayonet's point.
Oh! It was a most gorgeous and inspiring sight To see Sir John Moore in the thickest of the fight, And crying aloud to the 42d with all his might, "Forward, my lads, and charge them with your bayonets left and right.
" Then the 42d charged them with might and main, And the French were repulsed again and again; And although they poured into the British ranks a withering fire, The British at the charge of the bayonet soon made them retire.
Oh! That battlefield was a fearful sight to behold, 'Twas enough to make one's blood run cold To hear the crack, crack of the musketry and the cannon's roar, Whilst the dead and the dying lay weltering in their gore.
But O Heaven! It was a heartrending sight, When Sir John Moore was shot dead in the thickest of the fight; And as the soldiers bore him from the field they looked woebegone, And the hero's last words were "Let me see how the battle goes on.
" Then he breathed his last with a gurgling sound, And for the loss of the great hero the soldier's sorrow was profound, Because he was always kind and served them well, And as they thought of him tears down their cheeks trickling fell.
Oh! it was a weird and pathetic sight As they buried him in the Citadel of Corunna at the dead of night, While his staff and the men shed many tears For the noble hero who had commanded them for many years.
Success to the British Army wherever they go, For seldom they have failed to conquer the foe; Long may the highlanders be able to make the foe reel, By giving them an inch or two of cold steel.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

The Battle of Inkermann

 'Twas in the year of 1854, and on the 5th November,
Which Britain will no doubt long remember,
When the Russians plotted to drive the British army into the sea,
But at the bayonet charge the British soon made them flee.
With fourteen hundred British, fifteen thousand Russians were driven back, At half-past seven o'clock in the morning they made the attack, But the Grenadiers and Scottish Fusilier Guards, seven hundred strong, Moved rapidly and fearlessly all along.
And their rifles were levelled ready for a volley, But the damp had silenced their fire which made the men feel melancholy, But the Russians were hurled down the ravine in a disordered mass At the charge of the bayonet-- an inspiring sight!-- nothing could it surpass.
General Cathcart thought he could strike a blow at an unbroken Russian line; Oh! the scene was really very sublime, Because hand to hand they fought with a free will, And with one magnificent charge they hurled the Russians down the hill.
But while General Cathcart without any dread Was collecting his scattered forces, he fell dead, Pierced to the heart with a Russian ball, And his men lamented sorely his downfall.
While the Duke of Cambridge with the colours of two Regiments of Guards Presses forward, and no obstacle his courage retards, And with him about one hundred men, And to keep up their courage he was singing a hymn to them.
Then hand to hand they fought the Russians heroically, Which was a most inspiring sight to see; Captain Burnaby with thirteen Guardsmen fighting manfully, And they drove the Russians down the hillside right speedily.
The French and Zouaves aided the British in the fight, And they shot down and killed the Russians left and right, And the Chasseurs also joined in the fight, And the Russians fell back in great afright.
Then the Russians tried again and again To drive the British from the slopes of Inkermann, but all in vain, For the French and British beat them back without dismay, Until at last the Russians had to give way.
And the French and British fought side by side Until the Russians no longer the bayonet charge could abide, And the Russians were literally scorched by the musketry fire, And in a short time the Russians were forced to retire.
Then the British and the French pursued them into the depths of the ravine, Oh! it was a grand sight-- the scene was really sublime-- And at half-past one o'clock the Russians were defeated, And from the field of Inkermann they sullenly retreated.
Then the Battle of Inkermann was won, And from thefield the Russians were forced to run, But the loss of the British was terrible to behold; The dead lay in heaps stiff and cold, While thousands of Russians were dying with no one to aid them, Alas! Pitiful to relate, thousands of innocent men.

Written by William Topaz McGonagall |

Bonnie Kilmany

 Bonnie Kilmany, in the County of Fife,
Is a healthy spot to reside in to lengthen one's life.
The scenery there in the summer time is truly grand, Especially the beautiful hills and the woodland.
Chorus -- Then, bonnie Annie, will you go with me And leave the crowded city of Dundee, And breathe the pure, fragrant air In the Howe of Kilmany, so lovely and fair? And the little village in the Howe is lovely to see, In the midst of green trees and shrubbery; And the little rivulet, as it wimples along, Can be heard singing aloud an aquatic song.
Chorus And the old church there is built on a knoll, And on the Sabbath mornings the church bell does toll, Inviting the people to join in prayer, While the echoes of the bell is heard in mid-air.
Chorus Then there's a little schoolroom, surrounded by trees, A favourite haunt for butterflies and busy bees, And an old red-tiled smithy near by, And the clink of the hammers can be heard sounding high.
Chorus And thew's a wood sawmill by the roadway, And the noise can be heard by night and day, As the circular saw wheels round and round, Making the village with its echoes resound.
Chorus And in the harvest time on a fine summer morn The Howe looks most beautiful when the corn is shorn; And to hear the beautiful lark singing on high Will make you exclaim, "Dull care, good-bye.