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THE CALL. 31
HARK ! 't is the trumpet's peal!
Which is borne on the evening breeze. With lingering step two lovers walk, And the moon looks down through the tall oak-trees.
Hark! 't is the trumpet's peal! It calls to die in Freedom's name. On their winding way the lovers pause, And the youth's eyes kindle and flash like flame.
Hark ! 't is the trumpet's peal! It rings aloud from hill to vale : While heart pressed to heart the lovers stand, And the maiden weeps as her cheek grows pale.
Hark ! 't is the trumpet's peal! It rises o'er the cannon's roar. His sword gleams bright as he dashes on, And the maiden is praying alone in her bower.
Hark ! 't is the trumpet's peal! A hero's death his country weeps ; And far away a maiden lies cold, While the moon on high her silent watch keeps.
A. A. H.