Wake, soldier, wake, thy war-horse waits
To bear thee to the battle back;
Thou slumberest at a foeman's gates,-
Thy dog would break thy bivouac;
Thy plume is trailing in the dust
And thy red falchion gathering rust. (Thomas Kibble Hervey)

Wake, soldier, wake, thy war-horse waits To bear thee to the battle back; Thou slumberest at a foeman's gates,- Thy dog would break thy bivouac; Thy plume is trailing in the dust And thy red falchion gathering rust.

Thomas Kibble Hervey

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