Poems (Bushnell)/Reveille
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For works with similar titles, see Reveille.
II.
REVEILLE
The stars have all winked themselves out,
And the moon has slipped under the hill;
A swift little wind rushes gaily about,
And will not leave anything still;
And the moon has slipped under the hill;
A swift little wind rushes gaily about,
And will not leave anything still;
And my heart and my pulses all beat,
In time to the throb of the drum,
That calls me quick leaping once more to my feet,
For the jubilant morning has come!
In time to the throb of the drum,
That calls me quick leaping once more to my feet,
For the jubilant morning has come!
It is for my dawn that I care,—
O, not for the day-dawn alone!
Rise, rise, happy sun, for the day must be fair,
That makes her forever my own.
O, not for the day-dawn alone!
Rise, rise, happy sun, for the day must be fair,
That makes her forever my own.
The moon will come up from the hill,
And the stars will all gaze as they shine,
And the winds will all hush, and my heart will stand still,
When she whispers her vow to be mine.
And the stars will all gaze as they shine,
And the winds will all hush, and my heart will stand still,
When she whispers her vow to be mine.