Tum, tum, tum, tum! tum, tum, tum! Four rugged chieftains pounding on a drum; One, two, three, four! Who will take the lead? Someone must begin it or be battered with a reed. A weather-beaten squaw with trinkets in her ears, Shuffles to the rhythm of the weird song she hears; A buck tries to follow, as he capers on the green, Leaping through a hoop with agility of mien; An old man, with horns upon his tousled head of hair, Shambles into step with a proud and lordly air; A fair one, beruffled, with a shawl of purple-blue, Flourishes the fringes with the grace the Follies do. Bells upon their ankles, chaps of buffalo, Tails long and bushy, waving to and fro, Frock coats of gingham, vests of burly bear, Feather decked, bead decked, dancing on the square: A short step, a long step, definite and quick, Measured to the rhythm of a neatly padded stick; Tum-ee, tum-ee, tum, tum! tum-ee, tum-ee, tum! Four ragged chieftains beating on a drum! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BROKEN PITCHER by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN PSALM 104: THE MAJESTY AND MERCY OF GOD by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE SICKNESS by CHARLES BUKOWSKI AT APRIL by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE GRASS FINGERS by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE DEAD IN THE SIERRAS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER GIACINTA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT IN REFERENCE TO HER CHILDREN, 23 JUNE, 1659 by ANNE BRADSTREET |