Page:Lalla Rookh - Moore - 1817.djvu/97

 But the far torrent or the locust bird Hunting among thickets could be heard;-- Yet hark! what discords now of every kind, Shouts, laughs, and screams are revelling in the wind; The neigh of cavalry;--the tinkling throngs Of laden camels and their drivers' songs;-- Ringing of arms, and flapping in the breeze Of streamers from ten thousand canopies;-- War-music bursting out from time to time With gong and tymbalon's tremendous chime;-- Or in the pause when harsher sounds are mute, The mellow breathings of some horn or flute, That far off, broken by the eagle note Of the Abyssinian trumpet, swell and float.

Who leads this mighty army?--ask ye "who?" And mark ye not those banners of dark hue,