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The trumpet and the clarion sound to arms,
The noisy drum in solemn echo beats, And martial music, robed in all her charms,
The magic words, To arms ! To arms! repeats. To arms! The mortal combat has begun,
Rush on and fight amidst the deadly fray, Nor pause until the work is nobly done,
And honor crowns us with her wreath of bay ! |
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CANNON SONG.
Aha! a song- for the trumpet's tongue! For the bugle to sing before us, When our gleaming guns, like clarions, Shall thunder in battle chorus ! Where the rifles ring, where the bullets sing, Where the black bombs whistle o'er us. With rolling wheel and rattling peal They'll thunder in battle chorus!
Chorus.—With the cannon's flash, and the cannon's crash, With the cannon's roar and rattle, Let Freedom's sons, with their shouting guns, Go down to their country's battle !
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Their brassy throats shall learn the notes That make old tyrants quiver; Till the war is done, or each Tyrrell gun Grows cold with our hearts forever! |
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