J. M. S.
Theirs is the glory, they, the Ninety-Third,
Highlanders all and with that Highland fame
Extolled anew, immortal as their name.
Nobly they stood, as in that painting shown
In line extended, thin red line indeed
Nerved into action by the odds opposed,
Emerging thence like rock that had withstood
The seas that foamed from off its battled front,
Yet steadfast still in face of fierce assault.
Time doth but add to that immortal fame
Held on those fields that veterans have known
In recent years, and e'en remoter still.
Right royal, too, as Thin Red Line became,
Delville accords with Balaclava fame.