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Thomas M Kettle

  • 28-07-2004 11:59pm
    #1
    Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 10,952 ✭✭✭✭


    Hi all,

    i'm looking for some help, I have the end of a poem from Kettle called
    These are said to be the last lines, i picked them up in an old book years ago and have not been able to add to them from the web, anyone any ideas?
    Reason in Ryhme

    "Bond from the toil of bate we may not cease:
    Free we are to be your friend.
    And when you make your banquet, and we come,
    soldier with equal soldier must we sit
    Closing a battle, not forgetting it.
    With not a name to hide
    This mate and mother of valiant "rebels" dead
    Must come with all her history on her head.
    We keep the past for pride:
    No deepest peace shall strike our poets dumb
    No rawest squad of all Death’s volunteers
    No rudest man who died
    To tear your flag down in the bitter years
    But shall have praise and three times thrice again
    When at that table men shall drink with men’


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