1849-1861 <br /> <br />THE piping of our slender, peaceful reeds <br />Whispers uncared for while the trumpets bray; <br />Song is thin air; our hearts' exulting play <br />Beats time but to the tread of marching deeds, <br />Following the mighty van that Freedom leads, <br />Her glorious standard flaming to the day! <br />The crimsoned pavement where a hero bleeds <br />Breathes nobler lessons than the poet's lay. <br />Strong arms, broad breasts, brave hearts, are better worth <br />Than strains that sing the ravished echoes dumb. <br />Hark! 't is the loud reverberating drum <br />Rolls o'er the prairied West, the rock-bound North <br />The myriad-handed Future stretches forth <br />Its shadowy palms. Behold, we come,--we come! <br /> <br />Turn o'er these idle leaves. Such toys as these <br />Were not unsought for, as, in languid dreams, <br />We lay beside our lotus-feeding streams, <br />And nursed our fancies in forgetful ease. <br />It matters little if they pall or please, <br />Dropping untimely, while the sudden gleams <br />Glare from the mustering clouds whose blackness seems <br />Too swollen to hold its lightning from the trees. <br />Yet, in some lull of passion, when at last <br />These calm revolving moons that come and go-- <br />Turning our months to years, they creep so slow-- <br />Have brought us rest, the not unwelcome past <br />May flutter to thee through these leaflets, cast <br />On the wild winds that all around us blow.<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/songs-in-many-keys/
