A hush for just one fleeting breath
Falls where the toilers plod
As prayerful thoughts and whispered words
Go winging up to God.
Falls where the toilers plod
As prayerful thoughts and whispered words
Go winging up to God.
******
The golden sun slips o'er the line,
The high noon hour is past,
The roar of traffic fills the wind,
The sky is lone and vast.
A thousand hearts are thrilled and stirred
As silence settles where—
Muezzin of the Christian tower—
The bell has called to prayer.
The high noon hour is past,
The roar of traffic fills the wind,
The sky is lone and vast.
A thousand hearts are thrilled and stirred
As silence settles where—
Muezzin of the Christian tower—
The bell has called to prayer.
WHEN THE BUGLES BLOW
WHAT do you hear when the bugles blow—
When the bugles blow?
Is it only a thread of silver sound
Out of the throat of the silence wound,
Waking an echo's far rebound
That throbs when the bugles blow?
When the bugles blow?
Is it only a thread of silver sound
Out of the throat of the silence wound,
Waking an echo's far rebound
That throbs when the bugles blow?
Is that what you catch when the bugles blow—
When the bugles blow?
Or is it a long dead warrior's cry,
Filling the cup of the hollow sky,
Bidding you follow the flag and die
In Freedom's van when the bugles blow?
When the bugles blow?
Or is it a long dead warrior's cry,
Filling the cup of the hollow sky,
Bidding you follow the flag and die
In Freedom's van when the bugles blow?
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