With big tin trumpet and little red drum, <br />Marching like soldiers, the children come! <br />It 's this way and that way they circle and file--- <br />My! but that music of theirs is fine! <br />This way and that way, and after a while <br />They march straight into this heart of mine! <br />A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb <br />To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum! <br />Come on, little people, from cot and from hall--- <br />This heart it hath welcome and room for you all! <br />It will sing you its songs and warm you with love, <br />As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine; <br />It will rock you away to the dreamland above--- <br />Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine, <br />And jollier still is it bound to become <br />When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum! <br />So come; though I see not his dear little face <br />And hear not his voice in this jubilant place, <br />I know he were happy to bid me enshrine <br />His memory deep in my heart with your play--- <br />Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine <br />Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day! <br />And my heart it is lonely---so, little folk, come, <br />March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/with-trumpet-and-drum/
