O What Is That Sound
O what is that sound which so thrills the
Down in the valley drumming, drumming?
Only the scarlet soldiers, dear,
The soldiers coming.
O what is that light I see flashing so
Over the distance brightly, brightly?
Only the sun on their weapons, dear,
As they step lightly.
O what are they doing with all that gear,
What are they doing this morning, morning?
Only their usual manoeuvres, dear,
Or perhaps a warning.
O why have they left the road down there,
Why are they suddenly wheeling, wheeling?
Perhaps a change in their orders, dear,
Why are you kneeling?
O haven't they stopped for the doctor's care,
Haven't they reined their horses, horses?
Why, they are none of them wounded, dear,
None of these forces.
O is it the parson they want, with white hair,
Is it the parson, is it, is it?
No, they are passing his gateway, dear,
Without a visit.
O it must be the farmer that lives so near.
It must be the farmer so cunning, so cunning?
They have passed the farmyard already, dear,
And now they are running.
O where are you going?
Stay with me here!
Were the vows you swore deceiving, deceiving?
No,
I promised to love you, dear,
But I must be leaving.
O it's broken the lock and splintered the door,
O it's the gate where they're turning, turning;
Their boots are heavy on the
And their eyes are burning.
W H Auden
Other author posts
If I Could Tell You
Time will say nothing but I told you so, Time only knows the price we have to pay; If I could tell you I would let you know If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
For What As Easy
For what as For what thought small, For what is Because between,
Three Short Poems
The underground Are, as the dead prefer them, Always tortuous When he looked the cave in the eye,
Here War Is Simple
Here war is simple like a monument: A telephone is speaking to a man; Flags on a map assert that troops were sent; A boy brings milk in bowls
