The wives of the wounded, how thankful are they; Their husbands are cared for, how happy are they; Whate’er her country, this gift God has given, The soldiers they say she’s an angel from heaven. Sing praise to this woman, and deny it who can! And all women were sent for the comfort of man; Let’s hope no more against them you’ll rail, Treat them well, and they’ll prove like Miss Nightingale. [Illustration] BATTLE OF INKERMAN; OR “There came a Tale to England.” There came a tale to England, ’Twas of a battle won, And nobly had her warriors That day their duty done; They fell like sheaves in autumn, Yet ’mid that fearful scene, Their last shout was for England, Their last breath for their queen. There came a tale to England, Of suffering, want, and woe, Of the night watch in the trenches, Of the sortie by the foe; ‘Mid rain, and storm, and sickness, With no rest, no pause between, And there was grief through England, From the humblest to the Queen. Then wrote the Queen of England, God’s blessing on her pen. Oh! tell those wounded soldiers, Those sick, patient, suffering men, There’s no heart in England, Can feel a pang more keen, That day and night her own lov’d troops Are thought of by their Queen. Then rose a shout through England, From them ’twas wafted o’er, From those sick wounded soldiers, And it rang from shore to shore; From Alma and Balaklava, And Inkerman it came, “God bless the Queen of England” Again we’d do the same. GRAND CONVERSATION ON SEBASTOPOL AROSE! As the western powers of Europe united all together, In close deliberation they did appear to be, And all their conversation seemed a grand determination, To seize upon Sebastopol and set poor Turkey free! When up steps Omar Pasha, saying here I am amongst you-- My country has been oppressed by tyranny and woes, But now England and France in tens of thousands we’ll advance, This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose. The twentieth of September we ever shall remember, Upon the heights of Alma we made the Russians run, After a weary marching the day was hot and scorching, We fought the first great battle by the setting of the sun, Like hearts of oak we bounded and the enemy wounded, And when the bugle sounded to charge our mighty foes, For England’s home and beauty we nobly did our duty, This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.