by Alfred Perceval Graves (1846 - 1931)

Marching to Candahar
Language: English 
Marching, forced marching,
At stretch of speed so strong the need,
Marching, forced marching,
And Bobs himself to lead.
Horse, foot and gun at call,
Like wool upon a ball,
'Tis in and out and round about
He winds and binds us all.

Marching, forced marching,
For weeks and weeks, o'er moors and peaks;
Marching and outmarching
Ten thousand grand old Greeks.
Till Xenophon's harangues
Of stades and parasangs,
By all the powers this march of ours
To Banagher it bangs.

Marching and marching,
So swift and far by sun and star!
On marching and marching
Away for Candahar.
They say she's sore beset,
But through the Afghan net
We boys will break, and no mistake,
And save the city yet.

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Mike Pearson

This text was added to the website: 2016-09-13
Line count: 24
Word count: 121