HARK, hark! the drums afar, And the loud clarion's angry sound, Announce th' approaching war; The steeds in thunder bound: Unfurl'd the banners glare on high; The roar of cannon rends the sky. And rocks the ground. And now, all around, Fires flash, smoke whirls, and bullets fly, "To kill or wound." And what, though battle's doom Suppress the youthful warrior's breath! Could Sloth avoid the tomb! Can Flight escape from Death! What though, where we may sink in sleep, O'er the Green turf no marble weep, No scutcheon wave! We ask not such reward: Fair Fame and smiling Virtue guard The hero's grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIMES GO BY TURNS by ROBERT SOUTHWELL THIRD YPRES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THOMAS A KEMPIS: DE IMITATIONE CHRISTI by RICHARD ROGERS BOWKER THE LADY TO HER GUITAR by EMILY JANE BRONTE I SHALL FASHION SONGS by LOIS R. CARPENTER |