Poems (Hoffman)/The Bugle and the Battle
THE BUGLE AND THE BATTLE
Clear are the bugle tones and sweetThat the ether waves of the sky repeat,Harsh is the battle's roar and dinThat the stern hills echo back again.
Bugle, sweet bugle, the bard of fameWith his deathless song has linked thy nameAnd thy silver tones like echoes playThrough the humble minstrel's sweetest lay.
Battle, stern battle, on history's pageThy hosts in perpetual conflict rage,In heroic song is thy glory told,From age to age is thy discord rolled.
Peace spreads out her wings o'er our land afarShe has hushed the blood-chilling clang of war,But the battle of life goes on aroundThough the cannon's voice is no dreaded sound.
There is discord and danger in human lifeBut listen, blent with its toil and strifeThere are beautiful notes that rise and fallIn heavenly harmony through it all.
Life has its battle, its toilsome fightWhere the wrong oft triumphs, o'er the right,Where the strong and the brave to their foemen yieldAnd the fallen are strewn o'er the fiery field.
Life has its struggle, its march of toilWhere opposing forces brave effort foil,Where the harsh discordant notes of strifeAre heard on the battle ground of life.
Life has its bugle-tones, high and sweetAbove the discord of trampling feet;There is music, courage, hope and cheerIn the bugle-tones that all may hear.
Above the stifling of smoke and dustThey float to earth on the wind's wild gust,They soar and sing midst the thickest strife,The high, sweet bugle-tones of life.
O clear voiced bugle, your notes shall speedThe fainting heart and the panting steed'Till truth shall triumph, while error dies,And the blast of victory thrills the skies!
'Till the dust and the smoke of the fiery frayLike the mists of the morning have cleared away,'Till the bravest, noblest hosts have wonAnd the toilsome march of the world is done.
Awake stern hills to the battle's clash,Its thunders deepen, its lightnings flash;Far, far above it and over it allI can hear the sound of the bugle call.