"We watched the boys march singing through the streets of Kingston. We cheered to them and waved to them as the train pulled out." CONINGSBY DAWSON, in " The Passing of the 34th. "
How you passed out singing on that winter day!
All the air was ringing with your laughter gay;
With the song and banter that made light the way.
There were few sighs wasted on dividing years,
There was mirth and music, kisses, hopes and fears,
Cigarettes and banners, chocolates, socks and tears.
Swifter than your passing did the fancy run,
Soldiers, horses, bayonets—how you all seemed one,
Flashing through the snowflakes and the veiled sun;
Every woman cheered you, some few women wept,
Graybeards longed to join you, peaceful babies slept;
But the land that bore you her own counsel kept.
Only, through the snowflakes sped a rift of light,
Keen as pointed sword-blade and intensely bright—
Like the Lord's hand resting on the ranks of right.
And our hearts would send you, as a song of spring,
Unforgotten echoes of the songs you sing,
And the hope and courage that the new days bring.
Here's our love and greeting from the old home town;
Here's to speedy meeting, and to your renown;
Here's to every gallant heart in the khaki brown!