THE NEGLECTED SOLDIER

Fame is but a fleeting shadow, Glory but an empty name; Spite of all that I have gone through, ’Tis, I find, a losing game: Without interest, without money, Nothing can a soldier gain; Though he be the sole survivor Of a host of comrades slain: What avail these glitt’ring honours, Which a queen laid on my breast; Though I’ve sought them from my childhood, Would I’d fallen with the rest: Then my heart had not been broken Life had fled without a sigh; Hunger presses—I am fainting— Ought a soldier thus to die? The Old Shekarry.