The Battle of Alma.
[Inserted by the kind permission of Messrs. Brewer & Co., Bishopsgate Street, London, to whom the Copyright belongs, and where the Music may be had.]
The Russian army gathered on Alma*s rugged height,
Prepared itself for action and dared the coming fight,
Their guns boom loud defiance as from the shore advance,
The red coats of Old England and the valiant sons of France.
No bugle's sound or beat of drum fell on the listening ear,
But from ten thousand manly throats arose one mighty cheer,
On! on! exclaimed St Arnaud; Forward! Lord Raglan cries,
And charging up the rocky steeps, on went the brave Allies.
Oh! the Battle of the Alma
Shall never be forgot,
A blaze on England's scutcheon
On the Russian shield a blot.
All heedless were those warriors of death, or wounds, or pain.
Though bright swords gleam'd like lightning, and shot pour'd down like rain.
Shoulder to shoulder on they went, doing their deadly work,
Victory or death the only cry of English, French, and Turk;
Until at last on Alma's height as conquerors they stood,
The route they'd ta'en was strew'd with slain, and cover'd o'er with blood,
Right bravely did those gallant hearts who shared this glorious fight,
Sustain their country's honour on the Alma's tow'ring height.
Oh! the Battle of the Alma, &c.
