Arthur Conan Doyle

“ Five million Smiths obeyed the call.
To Smith the praise that he has earned,
For by his blood he saved us all.
Now then, Smith!
You're neither rich nor gifted.
But here's a job that must be done,
A job we may not shirk. ”

“ The Warrior chief can frame his plan
With all that wisdom can devise,
And then,—ah, then it needs the man,
And "Now then, Smith!" he loudly cries.
The Statesman in a parlous place
May totter on unstable ground. ”