O' dont forget your brother's in the dust.
O' dont forget where heroes sleep.
Think kindly of the men who bled for thee and with their
names in history large and deep.
In the lonely drift they died
With the pale lone star o',erhead
O! don't forget your soldiers brave and true
Though numbered with the dead
There were no Ravens wheeling in the sky,
There was no sounds of battle- all was still;
There was no Martials music pealing nigh,
But silence deep as death beneath the hill.
Till on rumours deadly wing
News of Isandlwana came;
Then they got their rifles out,
And waited all the same.
O' dont forget that lonely valley south,
For there three thousand Zulus shook the earth.
But they were not appalled those sons of ours,
not stained the noble scotcheon of their birth.
For each yell they gave a shout,
and for trust they gave on more;
Where are they now o brothers;
But immortal evermore.
O' dont forget the flower of British then,
Midst all the rage of battle how they stood
of Englands triumph o'er the field of blood;
O' dont forget the men who make thee Great.
O' dont forget the soldiers true who died,
O' dont forget the hero's grave down south
on the lonely mountain side.
D R Davies
Evening Express and Evening Mail Thursday November 3rd, 1910.