|
The Hill On Taiwan
by
Trumpeter Arthur Smith
(Fepow)
There's a hill on Taiwan
That looks out across the sea.
Where hero's graves with names thereon,
Forever frown on me.
Our comrades tie within thy breast
On yonder mountain steep,
Unafllicted, unoppressed
They sleep the blessed sleep.
Blow gentle winds I ask of thee
Upon their simple graves,
Be quiet! thou angry sea
Disturb not Britain's brave,
Oh willows droop thy heads and weep
Oh vagrants softly Head,
Disturb thou not the blessed sleep
Of Britain's glorious dead.
Oh frowning hill out in the East
The story shall be told.
Of those who lie in stalely rest
Within thy bosom cold,
Has not thy hunger been appeased
With a hundred souls or more,
Upon them thou has quickly seized
Why hunger thou for more.
Oh frowning hill I'll see you still
When I am far away.
When shadows fall I'll oft recall
These dark and gloomy days,
When we began thy assent steep
Bereaved and sore distressed,
To lay our comrades down to sleep
Within thy rugged breast.
|
