The Trumpet Call
Trumpeter, sound for the last Crusade!
Sound for the fire of the red-cross kings, Sound for the passion, the splendour, the pity That swept the world for a dead Man's sake,
Sound, till the answering trumpet rings Clear from the heights of the holy City, Sound till the lions of England awake, Sound for the tomb that our lives have betrayed; O'er broken shrine and abandoned wall, Trumpeter, sound the great recall, Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us; Sound for the last Crusade! Trumpeter, sound for the splendour of God!
Sound the music whose name is law, Whose service is perfect freedom still, The order august that rules the stars.
Bid the anarchs of night withdraw, Too long the destroyers have worked their will, Sound for the last, the last of the wars. Sound for the heights that our fathers trod, When truth was truth and love was love, With a hell beneath, but a heaven above, Trumpeter, rally us, up to the heights of it! Sound for the City of God.
Alfred Noyes
Other author posts
Capn Storm-Along
They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather,—Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down —Sea-lark singing to Golden Feather, And burly blue waters all swelling aroun' There's Thunderstone butting ahead as they wallow,
Shadows on the Down
When daffodils danced in Chuck Hatch, and white Drew their own shadowy purple across the hills, Darkening the valley where the small flint The Saxon built stood roofless to the sun,
The Lost Battle
It is not over yet-the Where those immortal dreamers failed They stormed the citadels of night, And the night praised them-and prevailed
Peace In A Palace
You were weeping in the night, said the Emperor, Weeping in your sleep, I am told It was nothing but a dream, said the Empress; But her face grew gray and old You thought you saw our German ...
