Page:Wessex poems and other verses (IA wessexpoemsother00hard).pdf/79

 "To the march that yon street-fiddler plies; She told me 'twas the same She'd heard from the trumpets, when the Allies Her city overcame.

"My father was one of the German Hussars, My mother of Leipzig; but he, Long quartered here, fetched her at close of the wars, And a Wessex lad reared me.

"And as I grew up, again and again She'd tell, after trilling that air, Of her youth, and the battles on Leipzig plain And of all that was suffered there! . ..

"—'Twas a time of alarms. Three Chiefs-at-arms Combined them to crush One, And by numbers' might, for in equal fight He stood the matched of none.