Classic Poem

Bold General Wolfe to his men did say,
Come, come, my lads, and follow me,
To yonder mountains that are so high,
All for the honour, all for the honour, of your King and country.

The French are on the mountains high,
While we poor lads in the valleys lie;
I see them falling like moths in the sun,
Thro' smoke and fire, thro' smoke and fire, all from our British guns.

The first volley they gave to us,
Wounded our general in his left breast;
Yonder he sits, for he cannot stand,
Fight on so boldly, fight on so boldly, for whilst I've life I'll have command.

Here is my treasure lies all in gold,
Take it and part it, for my blood runs cold;
Take it and part it, General Wolfe did say,
You lads of honour, you lads of honour, who made such gallant play.

When to old England you do return,
Pray tell my parents I am dead and gone,
And tell my tender old mother dear,
Not to weep for me, not to weep for me, it is a death I wish to share.

It is sixteen years since I first began,
For the honour of George our King;
Let our commanders do as I've done before,
Be a soldier's friend, be a soldier's friend, and boys they'll fight for evermore.