Let rip the dogs of war!
And loose the rattling guns
Charge head into the gaping maw
'Till blood on the battlefield runs.
Heed not the screams of broken men
Instead orders, charge, charge on!
And rally; 'for the king! ' rally up again!
Till all the men are gone!
Charge the fire, through clasping mire,
Head on 'gainst the cannons once more!
Let rip the shells 'till the death bell knells
Men! Lets up the score!
'Cross the field they thunder
To the walls of hardened stone,
While all the time torn - split - asunder
Yet not one faltered while many fell,
Till 'gainst the walls they charged and broke,
The enemy who stood in smoky hell,
Who stood on the walls of crumbling rock,
For their king, too, they fell in turn,
And into the choke and the battery smoke,
They fled, they fell, rallied not again.
'Cross the field the brave men walked,
The dogs of war now deathly quelled,
As on that field death with scythe he stalked,
And reap'd the harvest of grown men felled,
Those brave men, not one left,
Without some scar or shot,
Yet not their king of whom they sing,
Cared; to him, that was their lot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem