Ten
Ten times ten they march to battle each with brethren by there side
rifles raised, and sabres rattle as ten good men were felled and died.
Nine times ten push on for glory through hell of fire with hand on gun
each longs to live to tell there story as another ten good men are done.
Eight times ten will not encumber as shot and lead descend like rain
to fear the bullet with there number another ten good men are slain.
Seven times ten in rank and file fear in heart they forge on ahead
brothers falling across the mile as another ten good men lay dead.
Six times ten begin to waver yet steel their courage apon the wall
prayers to god to be there saviour another ten good men does fall.
Five times ten dig in with valour as inch by inch they press along
strong in heart they will not cower another ten good men are gone.
Four times ten can move no longer yet with heart hold their ground
the sounds of battle rising stronger another ten good men are downed.
Three times ten embrace with honour there fate to stand apon the last
to face the steed with death upon her another ten good men have passed.
Two times ten address each other tears in hearts with courage laid
a final charge beside there brother another ten good men have paid.
One times ten with bayonets flashing a braver heart can do no more
one by one the last come crashing as another dead man hits the floor.
The last man standing hands asunder discarded rifle lays at his side
foregoes the glory death and thunder to live and tell of those who died.
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