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1819–1875

A MARCH

Charles Kingsley

Dreary East winds howling o'er us; Clay-lands knee-deep spread before us; Mire and ice and snow and sleet; Aching backs and frozen feet;

Knees which reel as marches quicken, Ranks which thin as corpses thicken; While with carrion birds we eat, Calling puddle-water sweet,

As we pledge the health of our general, who fares as rough as we: What can daunt us, what can turn us, led to death by such as he?

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A MARCH · Charles Kingsley · Poetry Cove