Frederick William (FW) Harvey (26 March 1888 – 13 February 1957 / Hartpury, Gloucestershire)
THE OLDEST INHABITANT HEARS FAR OFF THE DRUMS OF DEATH
Sometimes 'tis far off, and sometimes 'tis nigh,
Such drummerdery noises too they be !
'Tis odd — oh, I do hope I baint to die
Just as the summer months be coming on,
And buffly chicken out, and bumble-bee :
Though, to be sure, I cannot hear 'em plain
For this drat row as goes a-drumming on.
Just like a little soldier in my brain.
And oh, I've heard we got to go through flame
And water-floods — but maybe 'tisn't true !
I alius were a-frightened o' the sea.
And burning fires — oh, it would be a shame
And all the garden ripe, and sky so blue.
Such drummerdery noises, too, they be.
Comments about this poem (THE OLDEST INHABITANT HEARS FAR OFF THE DRUMS OF DEATH by Frederick William (FW) Harvey )
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