Poems (Katharine Elizabeth Howard)/Song of the fife and the dream
Appearance
THE SONG OF THE FIFE AND DRUM
Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm te tum tum,
We are the fife, we are the drum,
We are the march to battle,—
The whistling shrill of the fife
And the drum's gay rattle.
Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm te tum tum,
The shrilling of fire and the drum's gay rattle.
We are the fife, we are the drum,
We are the march to battle,—
The whistling shrill of the fife
And the drum's gay rattle.
Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm te tum tum,
The shrilling of fire and the drum's gay rattle.
For'ard, march! How the pulses thrill!
Keep step, keep step to the drummer's skill,
To the sound of the drum's gay rattle.
More red! More red! Cries the flag of battle
March on! March on! For I scent afar
The dye stuff I'm desiring,—
The blood of the men of hiring.
The shrill of the fife and the drum's gay rattle!
Keep step, keep step to the drummer's skill,
To the sound of the drum's gay rattle.
More red! More red! Cries the flag of battle
March on! March on! For I scent afar
The dye stuff I'm desiring,—
The blood of the men of hiring.
The shrill of the fife and the drum's gay rattle!
Ah, hear! Ah, hear! The mighty drums!
Drums? 'Tis the roar of battle!
Ah, hear! Ah, hear! 'Tis the fife's loud trill!
Tife? 'Tis the bullet's rattle!
Cowards! Cowards! They fall around!
Cowards? Their blood soaks into the ground.
Drums? 'Tis the roar of battle!
Ah, hear! Ah, hear! 'Tis the fife's loud trill!
Tife? 'Tis the bullet's rattle!
Cowards! Cowards! They fall around!
Cowards? Their blood soaks into the ground.
Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm te tum tum,
'Tis the Colours' call to the dyeing,
'Tis the flag needs the blood of killing,
The glorious deeds for her thrilling,—
The red for her fading colour—the glory!
The man-child craveth his war-time story.
Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrm te tum tum
The shrill of the fife and the drum's gay rattle!
'Tis the Colours' call to the dyeing,
'Tis the flag needs the blood of killing,
The glorious deeds for her thrilling,—
The red for her fading colour—the glory!
The man-child craveth his war-time story.
Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrm te tum tum
The shrill of the fife and the drum's gay rattle!
Step out! Step out! Ye men, to the battle!
Graves? What matter as to their graves?
The grass that grows from the blood of braves
Shows a richer green, grows a brighter green,—
Rrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrrm te tum tum,
The far fife shrills to the muffled drum!
Graves? What matter as to their graves?
The grass that grows from the blood of braves
Shows a richer green, grows a brighter green,—
Rrrrrrm Rrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrrm te tum tum,
The far fife shrills to the muffled drum!