The bugles blow, the trumpets call,
And at their sound the towers fall;
Beleaguered bastions are down
Within yon ancient fortressed town:
Go up and let each cobbled street
Clang back to your triumphant feet!
A CRADLE SONG OF LIFE
Lullaby baby,
Hushaby baby!
After the day
Comes night with a dream!
Dear little hands,
Dear little feet,
Quiet at last;
Closed are the eyes:
Lullaby, hushaby baby!
When you awake
Will you forget
All the old toys,
The lessons you learned,
The bruises that hurt
When you fell down?
Uncouthly you sprawled
And frequently fell,
Learning to walk:
Was falling a sin,
Were bruises a shame,
Baby, my brave little baby?
What dreams do you dream,
What sounds do you hear
Out of the splendour—
Out of the wonder—
Out of the peace
Of Rest-A-While Land?
How little they know
Who call this a grave—
'Tis but a cradle,
And death is a sleep
From which you will waken
To try it again!
How little they know
Who prattle of sin,
And tell on their beads
Misereres for grace:
Baby must fall
That baby may rise!
Renewed by the rest,
Made strong by the dream,
More firmly your feet
Shall find out a way
Past the old blunders
Into the dawn!