Beat! beat! drums!
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow! | |
| Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force, | |
| Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, | |
| Into the school where the scholar is studying; | |
| Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride, | |
| Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering his grain, | |
| So fierce you whirr and pound you drums—so shrill you bugles blow. | |
| Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow! | |
| Over the traffic of cities—over the rumble of wheels in the streets; | |
| Are beds prepared for sleepers at night in the houses? no sleepers must sleep in those beds, | 1 |
| No bargainers’ bargains by day—no brokers or speculators—would they continue? | |
| Would the talkers be talking? would the singer attempt to sing? | |
| Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge? | |
| Then rattle quicker, heavier drums—you bugles wilder blow. | |
| Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow! | |
| Make no parley—stop for no expostulation, | |
| Mind not the timid—mind not the weeper or prayer, | |
| Mind not the old man beseeching the young man, | |
| Let not the child’s voice be heard, nor the mother’s entreaties, | |
| Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie awaiting the hearses, | |
So strong you thump O terrible drums—so loud you bugles blow. -- Walt Whitman | |
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