Prologue

Our birches yellowing and from each

The light leaf falling fast,

While squirrels from our fiery beech

Were bearing off the mast,

You came, and look’d and loved the view

Long-known and loved by me,

Green Sussex fading into blue

With one gray glimpse of sea;

And, gazing from this height alone,

We spoke of what had been

Most marvellous in the wars your own

Crimean eyes had seen;

And now–like old-world inns that take

Some warrior for a sign

That therewithin a guest may make

True cheer with honest wine–

Because you heard the lines I read

Nor utter'd word of blame,

I dare without your leave to head

These rhymings with your name,

Who know you but as one of those

I fain would meet again,

Yet know you, as your England knows

That you and all your men

Were soldiers to her heart's desire,

When, in the vanish'd year,

You saw the league-long rampart-fire

Flare from Tel-el-Kebir

Thro’ darkness, and the foe was driven,

And Wolseley overthrew

Arâbi, and the stars in heaven

Paled, and the glory grew.