The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery Collected and Revised by the Author |
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THE PROCESSION FORMS. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery |  |
VI. THE PROCESSION FORMS.
'Tis eight o'clock by matin-chime;
And signal-guns announce the time,
While countless numbers, mute with breathless trance,
Seem melted into one, to view the Pomp advance.
And signal-guns announce the time,
537
Seem melted into one, to view the Pomp advance.
With ling'ring preludes, long and low,
Comes marching on, serene and slow,
'Mid symphonies of solemn woe
Yon Cavalcade of Death!
With mourning trump and muffled drum
Behold the vast procession come,
And hold your pausing breath!
Comes marching on, serene and slow,
'Mid symphonies of solemn woe
Yon Cavalcade of Death!
With mourning trump and muffled drum
Behold the vast procession come,
And hold your pausing breath!
Cornet, flute, and clarion pour
Mingled death-wails more and more;
Bannerets and blazonry
With plumes of tow'ring pageantry,
Mingled with the harness'd gun,
Streaming Flag and Gonfalon,
Colours out of carnage won,
Rifles, Horse, and Fusileer,
Dragoon, Marine, and Grenadier,
And scar-worn Pensioners, with sable wands
That faintly quiver'd in their feeble hands,
Steed and soldiers' measured pace,
Wearing each some mourning-trace,
While sob and sigh intensely show
The heavings of the heart below,
All this, with heavy tramp, and hollow tread,
To symbolise they mourn the dead,—
Concentre, if thou can, the harmonising whole,
And treasure it with tears of sympathy and soul!
Mingled death-wails more and more;
Bannerets and blazonry
With plumes of tow'ring pageantry,
Mingled with the harness'd gun,
Streaming Flag and Gonfalon,
Colours out of carnage won,
Rifles, Horse, and Fusileer,
Dragoon, Marine, and Grenadier,
And scar-worn Pensioners, with sable wands
That faintly quiver'd in their feeble hands,
Steed and soldiers' measured pace,
Wearing each some mourning-trace,
While sob and sigh intensely show
The heavings of the heart below,
All this, with heavy tramp, and hollow tread,
To symbolise they mourn the dead,—
Concentre, if thou can, the harmonising whole,
And treasure it with tears of sympathy and soul!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery | |