Alfred Noyes (Альфред Нойес)

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.

1. The Escape of the Old Grey Squirrel
2. Song of the Wooden-Legged Fiddler
3. Fishers of Men
4. Kilmeny
5. Haunted in Old Japan

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1200

Последние стихотворения

To English version