Poets' Corner - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Poets' Corner - Alfred, Lord Tennyson - The War

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The War

THERE is a sound of thunder afar,: Storm in the south that darkens the day,
Storm of battle and thunder of war,: Well, if it do not roll our way.; Form! form! Riflemen form!; Ready, be ready to meet the storm!; Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Be not deaf to the sound that warns!: Be not gull'd by a despot's plea!
Are figs of thistles or grapes of thorns?: How should a despot set men free?; Form! form! Riflemen form!; Ready, be ready to meet the storm!; Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Let your Reforms for a moment go,: Look to your butts and make good aims.
Better a rotten borough or so,: Than a rotten fleet or a city of flames!; Form! form! Riflemen form!; Ready, be ready to meet the storm!; Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Form, be ready to do or die!: Form in freedom's name and the Queen's!
True, that we have a faithful ally,: But only the devil knows what he means!; Form! form! Riflemen form!; Ready, be ready to meet the storm!; Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!; Alfred, Lord Tennyson