All the summer plains of Angria were asleep in perfect peace
And the soldier as he rested deemed that foreign wars would cease
All the slain were calmly buried—the survivors home returned
Crossed again—the silent thresholds—where their faithful consorts mourned

Stained & soiled from Leyden's carnage—Dark & stern from Eveshams fall
Every chieftain of the army sought once more his ancient hall
And the proud commander slumbered on a couch's velvet swell
Yea beneath his lady's bower slept the Gallant Arundel

And the knight who never yielded in the battle to a foe
Now like Manoah's son is fettered with encircling arms of snow
The stalwart Thornton lingers by soft lawn & shady tree
All the ills of war forgotten in his Julia's sorcery

And why may not soldiers rest—when the fiery charge is sped
They may gather thornless flowers, who on bristled spears have bled
The[y] may lie without upbraiding in the mildest sunbeam's light
Who have watched through winter tempest and through cold December night

Wherefore then that sound of trumpets—sent at noonday through the land
Why that rustling waft of banners and that gathering band by band
Are there hosts upon the frontiers are there ships upon the sea
Are there chains in senates forging—for the children of the free

No though every foe is conquered & though every field is won
Yet Zamorna thinks his labours—for the Kingdom but begun
And those trumpets are his summons—those deep bugles are his call
From bower, from couch & chamber he has roused his nobles all

The horse again is saddled—that from conflict scarce has breathed
The sabre flashed in daylight—that the peace had hardly sheathed
And vaulting to their chargers—a hundred heroes spring
Yea ten thousand to Gazemba are gone to meet the King

The morning just awaking—lights the sky from pole to pole
Where the waters of a torrent—through the arid deserts roll
A banner from yon fortress—waves brightly in the sun
And from citadel & rampart—peals deep the matin gun

Heart-stirring soul-exalting whence bursts that warlike strain
Whose are the armed battallions that fill Gazemba's plain
On snow-white charger mounted—with snow-white plumes displayed
The herald of Arundel is at his horseman's head

To louder bursts of music—the desert thrills again
As onward spurs Lord Hartford to marshall all his men
And Eitrei's jungles quiver—when the blood-hounds send afar
To greet their own Fernando—the Bandit's wild Hourra!

Forth staff & plume & banner—forth crest & sword and lance
Amid the battery's thunder—the royal guards advance
A flash from every cannon—a shout from every man
For the king is dashing forward he is spurring to the van

Tall as a soldier should be and dark and quick of eye
He rises in his stirrups the pageant to descry
He cannot speak his answer to the sounds that hail him now
But he reins his fiery horse & he halts to bare his brow

There with eyes that meet the sun of the desert undismayed
He bends before his warriors that curled & helmless head
And then he signs for silence and he bids the charge begin
The cheer is drowned the shout is lost in the mimic battles din

They wheel they close they part—to the signal to the word
Every bosom every heart by that Kingly voice is stirred
The veterans of Benguela that voice before had known
It had cheered the midnight march with its deep arousing tone

By Cirhala's rapid water that very Leader spoke
Ere the day that closed in slaughter over Glorious Westwood broke—
And thus along the ranks had passed that haughty form
With bare white brow—& gallant smile on the night of Evesham's fall!

And a faithful noble few could remember years ago
How young Douro—led them through on a night of wail and woe
When by far Guadima's shore & by Angria's sieged town
With blast & volleying roar the mountain storm rushed down

Is there one in all that host 'neath Gazemba's rampart dread
But would deem life nobly lost if for Adrian's sake he bled
Is there one would shrink from death in the rudest rush of fight
If he gave his latest breath for his sake & in his sight?

You have followed me in dangers—says the monarch to his men
When we scarce had hope to cheer us—will you follow me again
While you keep my kingdom free—I will reign your sovereign true
While your hearts are staunch for me shall my hand be strong for you

To seal—his haughty vow—and his solemn league to bind
Once more he gave his brow—bare & glancing to the wind
The trumpets breathed a thrill and then paused then wild & high
Pipe & horn & clarion shrill—burst in triumph on the sky
With hearts too rapt for words—stood the troops as still as death
Then arose a clash of swords—but there never stirred a breath