Page:Marching Men - War Verses (1917).pdf/15



LARING bugle, throbbing drum, Onward, onward hear them come, Like a tide along the street Swells the sound of martial feet; On the breeze their colors streaming, In the sun their rifles gleaming, Pride of country, pride of race, Glowing in each ruddy face—
 * Marching men, marching men,

Leaping pulses keep you pace.

Measured, rhythmic, thousands strong, Sounds their tread the whole night long, Beating over heart and brain, Over hopes that bloomed in vain, Like the roll of distant thunder, That would tear a world asunder, All the nation's hope and pride Surging in the tireless tide—
 * Marching men, marching men,

Love goes praying by your side.

Deep the pathways they have worn Over women's hearts forlorn,