With colors gay, adown the street, The drums alert with stirring beat, Our lads pass by who rode for France. They proudly step with ne'er a glance To right or left. They never knew defeat. And still they come, the marching feet Sweep on. Their triumph is complete. The pennons flutter and the sky's adance With colors gay. So late in woods, the air replete With bursting shell and war's conceit, But now to pulsing beat advance, And shouts, that thrill, for home, for France, Our lads march by, adown the street With colors gay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHT BY THE RIVER by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II EPITAPH ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SUSAN, COUNTESS OF MONTGOMERY by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THOU FLOWER OF SPRING by JOHN CLARE EPISTLE TO THE LADY MARGARET, COUNTESS OF CUMBERLAND by SAMUEL DANIEL THE WATER MIDDEN'S SONG by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE |