<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421363" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Isandlwana</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Scarlet coats, and crash o' the band,<br> The grey of a pauper's gown,<br> A soldier's grave in Zululand,<br> And a woman in Brecon Town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My little lad for a soldier boy,<br> (Mothers o' Brecon Town!)<br>My eyes for tears and his for joy<br> When he went from Brecon Town,<br>His for the flags and the gallant sights<br>His for the medals and his for the fights,<br>And mine for the dreary, rainy nights<br> At home in Brecon Town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They say he's laid beneath a tree,<br> (Come back to Brecon Town!)<br>Shouldn't I know? -- I was there to see:<br> (It's far to Brecon Town!)<br>It's me that keeps it trim and drest<br>With a briar there and a rose by his breast --<br>The English flowers he likes the best<br> That I bring from Brecon Town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I sit beside him -- him and me,<br> (We're back to Brecon Town.)<br>To talk of the things that used to be<br> (Grey ghosts of Brecon Town);<br>I know the look o' the land and sky,<br>And the bird that builds in the tree near by,<br>And times I hear the jackals cry,<br> And me in Brecon Town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Golden grey on miles of sand<br> The dawn comes creeping down;<br> It's day in far off Zululand<br> And night in Brecon Town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+McCrae">John McCrae</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=421363" data-title="Isandlwana de John McCrae" data-description="Scarlet coats, and crash o' the band, The grey of a pauper's gown, A soldier's grave in Zululand, And a woman in Brecon Town. My little lad for a soldier boy, (Mothers o' Brecon Town!) My eyes for tears and his for joy When he went from Brec..."></div> </div> </div>

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