The Writings of Bret Harte | ||
UNDER THE GUNS
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill
Daisies are blossoming, buttercups fill;
Up the gray ramparts the scaling vine flings
High its green ladders, and falters and clings
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill.
Daisies are blossoming, buttercups fill;
Up the gray ramparts the scaling vine flings
High its green ladders, and falters and clings
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill.
405
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill
Once shook the earth with the cannonade's thrill,
Once trod these buttercups feet that, now still,
Lie all at rest in their trench by the mill.
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill.
Once shook the earth with the cannonade's thrill,
Once trod these buttercups feet that, now still,
Lie all at rest in their trench by the mill.
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill.
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill
Equal the rain falls on good and on ill.
Soft lies the sunshine, still the brook runs,
Still toils the Husbandman—under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill.
Equal the rain falls on good and on ill.
Soft lies the sunshine, still the brook runs,
Still toils the Husbandman—under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of the Fort on the Hill.
Under the guns of Thy Fort on the Hill
Lord! in Thy mercy we wait on Thy will;
Lord! is it War that Thy wisdom best knows,
Lord! is it Peace, that Thy goodness still shows,
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of Thy Fort on the Hill?
Lord! in Thy mercy we wait on Thy will;
Lord! is it War that Thy wisdom best knows,
Lord! is it Peace, that Thy goodness still shows,
Under the guns,
Under the guns,
Under the guns of Thy Fort on the Hill?
The Writings of Bret Harte | ||