Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408092" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>King Bibler's Army</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was ten years ago when the belle of the village<br>Gave here her hand to the young millionaire,<br>Every toungue (even those of the bells in the steeple)<br>Saying &quot;Joy to the Heav'n-blest pair!&quot;<br>She was sweet as the rosebud that blooms in the valley;<br>He was manly, and noble, and brave.<br>Tell me, where are they now?<br>In the sad-eyed procession,<br>Marching, down, down, down to the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark! hark! a pageant passes<br>(tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp):<br>I hear the tread of moving masses<br>(tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp)<br>O Heaven save our young men --<br>'tis King Bibler's Army,<br>Marching down, down, down to the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the head of the boat are the dashing lieutenants<br>Who entice young recruits into line;<br>Arm in arm, three abreast, they keep step with the music,<br>Bearing goblets of blood red wine.<br>In the rear, by and by, we shall see them together,<br>As they stagger along on the pave,<br>With their wives and their children, a rag-robed procession,<br>Marching, down, down, down to the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the front to the rear is the rule of promotion<br>In the army King Bibler commands;<br>And the pension is pov'rty, disease and dishonor,<br>With a forfeit of home and lands.<br>So the friend that was treated to cordials and juleps,<br>Will be treated at last like a slave,<br>As he fags at the end of the chaingang procession,<br>Marching, down, down, down to the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would you fill up the ranks? let your town send its quota:<br>Seventy thousand recruits must be found,<br>For the gravediggers reckon they bury that number<br>Every year in the cold, cold ground.<br>Yet the rest hobble on, and the colors they carry,<br>Though in tatters, triumphantly wave,<br>For they vanquish themselves in this madman's procession,<br>Marching, down, down, down to the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Clay+Work">Henry Clay Work</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408092" data-title="King Bibler's Army de Henry Clay Work" data-description="It was ten years ago when the belle of the village
Gave here her hand to the young millionaire,
Every toungue (even those of the bells in the steeple)
Saying &quot;Joy to the Heav'n-blest pair!&quot;
She was sweet as the rosebud that blooms in the..."></div>
</div>
</div>