HOMAGE TO A FOE
De Wet! we own thee for a doughty foe
In whose red blood no craven drop has place,
Whose courage in defeat doth greater grow,
Fearing no evil but submission base.
Adversity has tried thee as by fire,
And proved thy mettle to be sterling gold,
And we, the while we suffer, must admire
A spirit formed in such heroic mould.
'Tis our misfortune that with men like thee
An evil fate has forced us to contend;
Brothers in aims and arms we ought to be,
And then the world against us could not bend
Or break us, but should give us service meek—
Ah why our valour on each other wreak!
In whose red blood no craven drop has place,
Whose courage in defeat doth greater grow,
Fearing no evil but submission base.
Adversity has tried thee as by fire,
And proved thy mettle to be sterling gold,
And we, the while we suffer, must admire
A spirit formed in such heroic mould.
'Tis our misfortune that with men like thee
An evil fate has forced us to contend;
Brothers in aims and arms we ought to be,
And then the world against us could not bend
Or break us, but should give us service meek—
Ah why our valour on each other wreak!