reveille - ivor gurney lyrics
wake: the silver dusk returning
up the beach of darkness brims
and the ship of sunrise burning
strands upon the eastern rims
wake: the vaulted shadow shatters
trampled to the floor it spanned
and the tent of night in tatters
straws the sky*pavilioned land
up, lad, up, ’tis late for lying:
hear the drums of morning play;
hark, the empty highways crying
“who’ll beyond the hills away?”
towns and countries woo together
forelands beacon, belfries call;
never lad that trod on leather
lived to feast his heart with all
up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
sunlit pallets never thrive;
morns abed and daylight slumber
were not meant for man alive
clay lies still, but blood’s a rover;
breath’s a ware that will not keep
up, lad: when the journey’s over
there’ll be time enough to sleep
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