OVER THE TOP

A lusty lad from Lewis,—

Bright gem from Britain's crown —

Assailed by Huns with gas and guns

In “No Man's Land” was down.

No power on earth can save him,

‘ Tis madness, then, to try;

Still to the deed sprang forth with speed

A balloch ban from Skye!

He volunteered to enter

That zone of certain death,

And unafraid went forth to aid,

While thousands held their breath.

Thru all that hell of fire

He sped like mountain deer —

On shell-torn ground his comrade found,

And bore him to the rear.

Their comrades gather‘ round them

To do what mortals can:

But — cruel fate!— they found them

Beyond the help of man.

One whispers, “Da mar ha u?”

“Gla vadh,” the friend replied;

Then rescuer and rescued

“Went over” side by side!

How marred the manly beauty!

Now torn by shot and shell —

Ye Huns have done your duty

And served your master well!

Poor bleeding, broken bodies

To mother earth consign —

The spirit of the laddies

Ye cannot more confine.

Over the top together —

Over the great gray host —

Homing like birds of freedom,

Back to their rock-bound coast.

Over the top together!

Out from the fighting list:

Home where the purple heather

Blooms in the Highland mist.

Sons of mothers returning —

Souls from the clod set free:

Back where the home guards, yearning,

Pray that their eyes might see —

See through the veil between them,

Though but a brief, brief glance,

Into the eyes of loved ones,

Dead on the fields of France!

Home where the curlew's calling

Notes that are wild and free!

Home, where the mist is falling

Into a storm-tossed sea.

Parents of brave, dead soldiers,

Dear sisters, sweethearts, wives,

Is there no balm in Gilead

For all the dear lost lives?

Yes, there's a balm in knowing

They died for you and me:

Their precious blood bestowing,

The price of liberty!

Dear lusty lad from Lewis:

Brave blue-eyed boy from Skye:

In this great war you show us

How bravely men can die!