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Updated: September 7, 2025
And as his voice had something of the trumpet's hardness, it had something also of the trumpet's warlike inspiration.
She took Miss Benson's offered arm, and could hardly drag herself as far as the little quiet street in which Mr Benson's house was situated. The street was so quiet that their footsteps sounded like a loud disturbance, and announced their approach as effectually as the "trumpet's lordly blare" did the coming of Abdallah. A door flew open, and a lighted passage stood before them.
Again we halted, and the trumpeter and the trooper with the white flag rode on to the farther part of the somewhat scattered village. Suddenly the trumpet's call rang out through the sharp, frosty air, and then we again moved on, passing down another village street where several gaunt starving cats attempted to follow us, with desperate strides and piteous mews.
The White Cuirassiers shook their glittering sabres; the melancholy trumpet's blast swept skyward; the standards flapped. Suddenly the stony street trembled with the outcrash of drums; the cuirassiers halted, the steel-mailed squadrons parted right and left; a carriage drove at a gallop through the opened ranks. Lorraine leaned from the window; the officer in the carriage looked up.
Bradamante, meanwhile, prepared herself for the combat far differently. Instead of blunting the edge of her falchion she whets the steel, and would fain infuse into it her own acerbity. As the moment approached she seemed to have fire within her veins, and waited impatiently for the trumpet's sound. At the signal she drew her sword, and fell with fury upon her Rogero.
I had supposed her illness some trifling complaint that youth and care would certainly remove; and here we stand, as it might be, at the call of the trumpet's blast, almost around her grave!" "I am most anxious to lean on your wisdom and experience, my dear sir, at this critical moment; if you will advise, I shall be happy to follow your instructions."
The Soul of the Past, again To its ancient home, In the hearts of Rome, Hath come to resume its reign! O Fame, with a prophet's voice, Bid the ends of the Earth rejoice! Wherever the Proud are Strong, And Right is oppress'd by Wrong; Wherever the day dim shines Through the cell where the captive pines; Go forth, with a trumpet's sound!
Suddenly the stagnant quiet was broken by the announcement that the Turks had crossed the Danube. This aroused the army from their sullen stupor, and Joseph, as if freed from an incubus, joyfully prepared himself for action. The trumpet's shrill call was heard in the camp, and the army commenced their march.
O'er Gallia's hosts victorious, It turn'd their pride of yore; Its fame on earth is glorious, Renown'd from shore to shore. "The soldier's heart has bounded When o'er the tide of war; Where death's brief cry resounded, It flash'd a blazing star. Or floating over leaguer'd wall, It met his lifted eye; Like war-horse to the trumpet's call, He rush'd to victory!
Trumpets sound. Hark! What importeth that loud trumpet's call? DUNOIS. Up! forth to meet him! My Agnes! thou dost weep! Even my strength Doth almost fail me at this interview. How many victims have been doomed to fall Ere we could meet in peace and reconcilement! But every storm at length suspends its rage, Day follows on the murkiest night; and still When comes the hour, the latest fruits mature!
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