Those men are deemed heroes who rush on the foe Regardless of danger, and seek not to know What others may do; Stern duty demands it--why should they falter If all they hold dear is laid on the altar, And conscience be true? The greatest of all is the man who can say When battle is over and foe gained the day, "The fault was in me: My plan miscarried through miscalculation; On me rests the blame, and not on the nation: My soldiers are free." In George Stewart White, and men of like mind, Our nation can rest, for in them you will find A true manliness; Their failures acknowledged are failures no more; Defeat to such men only opens the door To future success. [Footnote 2: General White's words.] KEPT THE FLAG FLOATING "Thank God, we have kept the flag floating."--_General White._ Some men, like French, display much dash; They boldly rush upon the foe, Their sword-blades like the lightning flash, As they on helm or hauberk clash; Nor fear the foeman's blow. We praise them for their gallant deeds; They are the men the Empire needs. But true as they are those who stand Within the fort beleaguered round; Resources few at their command, Their army but a feeble band, Yet bravely hold their ground; And o'er their blood-bespattered coats The Union Jack in triumph floats. Reduced their strength through lack of food, And fever germs on vitals preyed; Yet they o'er trouble did not brood, By night or day of cheerful mood; This burden on them weighed-- To keep the flag afloat--in brief, Till Buller came to their relief. Brave White, accept our meed of praise! We crown thee equal to the best Of heroes of the olden days, Whose deeds inspired the poets' lays! We need no further quest; But this with gratitude we note, Thy valour kept the flag afloat! Valor like thine does not surprise When we review thy noble past; A hero is the one who tries, Though he may not to ideal rise-- His plan may fail at last-- Yet is too brave to lay the blame On others, but takes all the shame. "The fault was mine," thy language then, Revealing the divinest grace Possessed by truly noble men, And, prophecy of triumph, when With foe brought face to face, The choice remains, defeat or death, The flag will float till latest breath. MARY She brought her alabaster flask Well-filled with precious nard; Nor did she deem the act a task, Nor look for great reward; She only thought of His great love, And felt her gift was small For Him who left His home above To suffer death for all. But her blest Lord more highly prized The loving heart that gave; For loveless gifts are e'er despised, Yet men oft seek to pave The way that leads to glory land With deeds devoid of grace; But only those who love can stand Approved before His face. A WORLD REDEEMED