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Article POETRY. Page 1 of 1 Article THE RED-CROSS FLAG. Page 1 of 1
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Poetry.
POETRY .
A MASONIC CHAUNT , FOR REVOLUTIONARY TIMES . WITH a tempest roaring round her , and before a rushing blast , The good ship Bonny England sails fearlessly and fast ; Quick lightning flashes glare athwart the dark and troubled sky , But still the red-cross pennon floats , a meteor flag on high ;
Hoarse thunders boom incessantly , and the angry sea replies , In a voice of fearful menace , to the clamour of the skies ; But , still unscathed , the ship holds on her free and fearless path , Nor heeds the angry thunderbolt , nor heeds the lightning ' s wrath ; The fountains of the deep are loosed , and throb , and heave , and sway , No pause , no check , that vessel knows in her bold and onward way ;
For by her massive bulwarks , and on her decks there stand , Of steadfast men , with steadfast hearts , a stout and stalwart band . There are none more stout and steadfast among that gallant crew Than the brethren of our ancient Craft , the loyal and the true , To this good old ship , this brave old ship , that breasts the foaming tide , We ' 11 cleave and cling , in storm or shine , let weal or woe betide ;
For we are bound by solemn bonds , to be true to father-land , And if need be , to guard the throne from treason ' s red right hand ; To live in BROTHERLY LOVE , and give RELIEF to those in ruth , In peril or peace to prize as gems , honour and sacred TRUTH . JAMES SMITH , Brixton Brewery . Castle Lodge .
The Red-Cross Flag.
THE RED-CROSS FLAG .
UNFURL that glorious banner , fling forth its glittering folds , And let it float , like a silver cloud , above our mighty holds ; Above our sea-girt fortresses that crown each rocky steep , And frown like haughty giants on the vex'd and surging deep ; Above our white-sail'd thunderers—above that gallant host , Who never raised the craven cry— " Retreat , for all is lost !"
Yes , proudly let the red-cross float o ' er all the pleasant land , And be that silvery pennon seen on every foreign strand ; No taint upon its sunny folds , no stain upon its fame . Our English flag unsullied flies , as spotless as our name . JAMES SMITH , Castle Lodge .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
A MASONIC CHAUNT , FOR REVOLUTIONARY TIMES . WITH a tempest roaring round her , and before a rushing blast , The good ship Bonny England sails fearlessly and fast ; Quick lightning flashes glare athwart the dark and troubled sky , But still the red-cross pennon floats , a meteor flag on high ;
Hoarse thunders boom incessantly , and the angry sea replies , In a voice of fearful menace , to the clamour of the skies ; But , still unscathed , the ship holds on her free and fearless path , Nor heeds the angry thunderbolt , nor heeds the lightning ' s wrath ; The fountains of the deep are loosed , and throb , and heave , and sway , No pause , no check , that vessel knows in her bold and onward way ;
For by her massive bulwarks , and on her decks there stand , Of steadfast men , with steadfast hearts , a stout and stalwart band . There are none more stout and steadfast among that gallant crew Than the brethren of our ancient Craft , the loyal and the true , To this good old ship , this brave old ship , that breasts the foaming tide , We ' 11 cleave and cling , in storm or shine , let weal or woe betide ;
For we are bound by solemn bonds , to be true to father-land , And if need be , to guard the throne from treason ' s red right hand ; To live in BROTHERLY LOVE , and give RELIEF to those in ruth , In peril or peace to prize as gems , honour and sacred TRUTH . JAMES SMITH , Brixton Brewery . Castle Lodge .
The Red-Cross Flag.
THE RED-CROSS FLAG .
UNFURL that glorious banner , fling forth its glittering folds , And let it float , like a silver cloud , above our mighty holds ; Above our sea-girt fortresses that crown each rocky steep , And frown like haughty giants on the vex'd and surging deep ; Above our white-sail'd thunderers—above that gallant host , Who never raised the craven cry— " Retreat , for all is lost !"
Yes , proudly let the red-cross float o ' er all the pleasant land , And be that silvery pennon seen on every foreign strand ; No taint upon its sunny folds , no stain upon its fame . Our English flag unsullied flies , as spotless as our name . JAMES SMITH , Castle Lodge .