The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
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THE TRUMPET. |
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 | The works of Mrs. Hemans |  |
THE TRUMPET.
The trumpet's voice hath roused the land—
Light up the beacon-pyre!—
A hundred hills have seen the brand,
And waved the sign of fire.
A hundred banners to the breeze,
Their gorgeous folds have cast—
And, hark! was that the sound of seas?
A king to war went past.
Light up the beacon-pyre!—
A hundred hills have seen the brand,
And waved the sign of fire.
A hundred banners to the breeze,
Their gorgeous folds have cast—
And, hark! was that the sound of seas?
A king to war went past.
The chief is arming in his hall,
The peasant by his hearth;
The mourner hears the thrilling call,
And rises from the earth.
The mother on her first-born son,
Looks with a boding eye—
They come not back, though all be won,
Whose young hearts leap so high.
The peasant by his hearth;
The mourner hears the thrilling call,
And rises from the earth.
The mother on her first-born son,
Looks with a boding eye—
They come not back, though all be won,
Whose young hearts leap so high.
The bard hath ceased his song, and bound
The falchion to his side;
E'en for the marriage altar crown'd,
The lover quits his bride.
And all this haste, and change, and fear,
By earthly clarion spread!—
How will it be when kingdoms hear
The blast that wakes the dead?
The falchion to his side;
175
The lover quits his bride.
And all this haste, and change, and fear,
By earthly clarion spread!—
How will it be when kingdoms hear
The blast that wakes the dead?
| The works of Mrs. Hemans | |