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257

THE WHITE MAN'S DRUM.

FROM THE INDIAN.

Warriors, with their banners, come—
Hark! I hear the white man's drum;
Oh! it is a sound to make
Fear a coward's heart forsake,
And the Indian loves it well
Though it is his country's knell:
Warriors, with their banners, come—
Hark! I hear the white man's drum.
Thought awakes to pitch sublime,
Though an enemy beats time,
And the music's stormy roll
Rouses daring in my soul—
A wild wish to barter life
For the maddening joy of strife;
Warriors, with their banners, come—
Hark! I hear the white man's drum.
I have heard old ocean's roar
When upheaved were rocks on shore,
Trumpet by the tempest blown
When gray winter ruled alone;
But those sounds could not impart
Joy like this that floods my heart;
Warriors, with their banners, come—
Hark! I hear the white man's drum.