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Tuesday, January 22, 2019

The Trumpet


The Trumpet
by Edward Thomas

Rise up, rise up,
And, as the trumpet blowing
Chases the dreams of men,
As the dawn glowing
The stars that left unlit
The land and water,
Rise up and scatter
The dew that covers
The print of last night’s lovers—
Scatter it, scatter it!

While you are listening
To the clear horn,
Forget, men, everything
On this earth new-born,
Except that it is lovelier
Than any mysteries.
Open your eyes to the air
That has washed the eyes of the stars
Through all the dewy night:
Up with the light,
To the old wars:
Arise, arise.


Edward Thomas was born on March 3, 1878. His books include Poems (H. Holt and Company, 1917) and Last Poems (Selwyn and Blount, 1918), among others. He died in battle on April 9, 1917, in Arras, France.


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3 comments:

  1. AnonymousJanuary 22, 2019 at 11:20 AM

    Joe, presumably given the posting you must have got home,despite the storm. Let us know how you are doing. Some of us care about you, Roderick

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dave RJanuary 22, 2019 at 11:30 AM

    I actually believe that picture should be name 'trumpet and washboard.'

    ReplyDelete
  3. JiELJanuary 22, 2019 at 2:28 PM

    Not sure that this man could play only trumpet but also some «picolo» too…

    ReplyDelete

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