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Updated: October 7, 2025
From gay guitar and violin the silver notes are flowing, And the lovely lute doth speak between the trumpet's lordly blowing, And banners bright from lattice light are waving everywhere, And the tall, tall plume of our cousin's bridegroom floats proudly in the air: Rise up, rise up, Xarifa, lay the golden cushion down; Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town.
The trumpet's brazen throat should pour heavenly music over the earth, and the herald's voice go forth with the sweetness of an angel's accents, as if to summon each upright man to his reward. But how is this? Does none answer to the call? Not one: for the just, the pure, the true, and an who might most worthily obey it, shrink sadly back, as most conscious of error and imperfection.
Monday were with the captain, and the false Sir George Templemore went with Mr. Leach. These arrangements completed, the whole party waited impatiently for the wind and current to set them down towards the reef, the rocks of which by this time were plainly visible, even from the thwarts of the several boats. Hark! was it not the trumpet's voice I heard? The soul of battle is awake within me.
"And when with years and honors crowned, You sit some homeward hearth around, And hear no more the stirring sound That spoke the trumpet's warning, You'll fill and drink, one Hip-hurra! And pledge the memory of the day, When, squadron square, They all were there, To meet the French in the morning." "Gloriously done, Fred!" cried Hixley.
'NOVEMBER 4TH. To-night I have dared to read again Browning's "Rabbi ben Ezra." For months I have not been able to read it, or think of it, though for days and weeks towards the end of her life it seemed to be graven on my heart. Look not thou down, but up! To uses of a cup, The festal board, lamp's flash, and trumpet's peal The new wine's foaming glow, The Master's lips a-glow!
So silently they gallop, that gallant cavalcade, The very trumpet's muffled tone has no disturbance made. It seems to blend with the whispering sound of breezes on their way, The rattle of their harness and the charger's joyous neigh. But now from hill and turret high the flaming cressets stream And watch-fires blaze on every hill and helm and hauberk gleam.
Oh! my heart is full of care, and my soul is dark with sorrow! 'Hark! the trumpets that sound our dishonour. Oh, that they but sounded to battle! Lord of Hosts, let me conquer or die! Let me conquer like David; or die, Lord, like Saul! 'Why do I live? Ah! could the thought that lurks within my secret heart but answer, not that trumpet's blast could speak as loud or clear.
"My king and I will lead, my lady-in-waiting will follow me, while you, my merry subjects, shall form, two by two, and march to grandest music. After the march, the dominoes shall be cast aside, and then " she paused, then laughing gaily she concluded, "then I shall know who my guests are." The trumpet's blare told all to be ready!
Loosed by the brazen trumpet's peal Knee to knee and toe on heel Troop on troop the squadrons wheel Outbrazening the sun! WITHIN a fortnight of the outbreak of the mutiny, men spoke with bated breath about the Act of God. It burst at the moment when India's reins were in the hands of some of the worst incompetents in history.
All wreck'd and reckless now; But let the trumpet's soul-inspiring sound Wake up the brattling echoes of the woods, Then watch his kindling eye his eagle glance While thoughts of glorious fields, and battles won, And visions bright of joyous, hopeful youth Sweep o'er his soul.
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