Far away from stricken Memphis...

By Margaret Moran Dixon McDougall

Far away from stricken Memphis

Came the tidings sad and sure

That among the many fallen,

Fell the clansman Norman Dewar

There are eyes unused to weeping

With the tears of sorrow dim,

Hearts with nature's anguish heaving,

Yet‘ tis wrong to weep for him

None who fell in glorious battle,

In the shock of meeting steel,

Fell more bravely, died more nobly

More like son of true Lochiel

When the cry arose in Memphis

That the yellow death had come,

When the rich in fear were fleeing,

And the poor with terror dumb,

Famine following the fever,

Want of all things awful death,

When forsaken by their kindred,

Human souls gave up their breath,

There were men who felt God's pity,

Strong to do and to endure,

And among these brave and noble,

At his post stood Norman Dewar

Firm and gentle, true and tender,

Knowing all the danger well,

This true son of old Glengarry

Stood on duty till he fell

Highland hearts have breasted battle,

Highland veterans show their scars,

Highland blood has flowed like water

In our Gracious Sovereign's wars.

We have praised in song and story,

Those who bravely fought and fell,

For Old England's might and glory,

For the Queen they love so well.

And shall we this time be silent

O thou clansman firm and true,

Shall not loyal brave Glengarry,

Through her tears feel proud of you

Thou hast fought the sternest battle,

Thou hast met the grimmest foe;

Christ-like stood by the forsaken

Stood till death has laid thee low.

Praise thy sons, dear old Glengarry,

Prompt to do, calm to endure;

And among your very noblest,

Set God's hero Norman Dewar.