VII

WAR-MUSIC

        Break off!  Dance no more! 
          Danger is at the door. 
          Music is in arms. 
        To signal war’s alarms.

    Hark, a sudden trumpet calling
      Over the hill! 
    Why are you calling, trumpet, calling? 
      What is your will?

      Men, men, men! 
    Men who are ready to fight
    For their country’s life, and the right
    Of a liberty-loving land to be
      Free, free, free! 
    Free from a tyrant’s chain,
    Free from dishonor’s stain,
    Free to guard and maintain
    All that her fathers fought for,
    All that her sons have wrought for,
      Resolute, brave, and free!

      Call again, trumpet, call again,
          Call up the men!

    Do you hear the storm of cheers
    Mingled with the women’s tears
  And the tramp, tramp, tramp of marching feet? 
    Do you hear the throbbing drum
    As the hosts of battle come
  Keeping time, time, time to its beat? 
    O Music give a song
    To make their spirit strong
  For the fury of the tempest they must meet.

      The hoarse roar
      Of the monster guns;
      And the sharp bark
      Of the lesser guns;
      The whine of the shells,
      The rifles’ clatter
      Where the bullets patter,
      The rattle, rattle, rattle
      Of the mitrailleuse in battle,
      And the yells
      Of the men who charge through hells
      Where the poison gas descends,
      And the bursting shrapnel rends
      Limb from limb
      In the dim
      Chaos and clamor of the strife
      Where no man thinks of his life
      But only of fighting through,
      Blindly fighting through, through!

        ’Tis done
        At last! 
        The victory won,
      The dissonance of warfare past!

        O Music mourn the dead
        Whose loyal blood was shed,
      And sound the taps for every hero slain;
        Then lead into the song
        That made their spirit strong,
      And tell the world they did not die in vain.

    Thank God we can see, in the glory of morn,
      The invincible flag that our fathers defended;
    And our hearts can repeat what the heroes have sworn,
      That war shall not end till the war-lust is ended. 
    Then the bloodthirsty sword shall no longer be lord
    Of the nations oppressed by the conqueror’s horde,
      But the banners of Liberty proudly shall wave
      O’er the world of the free and the lands of the brave.

May, 1916.

VIII

THE SYMPHONY