Poems (Lambert)/The Signal Gun
THE SIGNAL GUN.
SOFTLY now the day is dawning,Song-birds sing the lays of morning;Al else around is calm and still,Except-the picket on the hill.
Now where once the morning breezeSweetly floated through the trees;Grim earth-batteries rear on highTheir ghastly heads up to the sky.
From morning's light to evening shadesWe dwell in dread of martial raids;With faith we trust protecting powerWill shelter us in this dark hour.
Listen! now the signal-gunTells the picket's work is done;No more will he watch and wait—Stands he now at heaven's gate.Yes, the picket's race is run,And his heavenly life begun.