Tuesday, November 25, 2025

The Drum

Originally published in Douglas Jerrold's Shilling Magazine (Punch) vol.1 #2 (Feb 1845).


                        Yonder is a little drum
                                Hanging on the wall,
                        Dusty wreaths and tatter'd flags
                                Round about it fall.


                A Shepherd youth on Cheviot's hills
                        Watch'd the sheep whose skin
                A cunning workman wrought and gave
                        The little drum its din.

                O pleasant are fair Cheviot's hills
                        With velvet verdure spread,
                And pleasant 'tis amid its heath
                        To make your summer bed.

                And sweet and clear are Cheviot's rills
                        That trickle to its vales,
                And balmily its tiny flowers
                        Breathe on the passing gales.

                And thus hath felt the Shepherd boy
                        Whilst tending of his fold,
                Nor thought there was in all the world
                        A spot like Cheviot's wold.

                And so it was for many a day,
                        But change with Time will come,
                And he—(Alas! for him the day!)
                        He heard the little drum.

                "Follow," said the drummer-boy,
                        "Would you live in story;
                "For he who strikes a foeman down,
                        "Wins a wreath of glory!"

                "Rub-a-dub and rub-a-dub,"
                        The drummer beats away—
                The Shepherd let his bleating flock
                        On Cheviot wildly stray.

                On Egypt's arid waste of sand
                        The Shepherd now is lying,
                Around him many a parching tongue
                        For water's faintly crying.

                O that he were on Cheviot's hills
                        With velvet verdure spread,
                Or lying 'mid the blooming heath,
                        Where oft he'd made his bed.

                Or could he drink of those sweet rills
                        That trickle to the vales,
                Or breathe once more the balminess
                        Of Cheviot's mountain gales.

                At length upon his wearied eyes
                        The mists of slumber come,
                And he is in his home again—
                        Till waken'd by the dram.

                "Take arms! Take arms," his leader cries,
                        "The hated foeman's nigh;"
                Guns loudly roar—steel clanks on steel,
                        And thousands fall to die.

                The Shepherd's blood makes red the sand,
                        "Oh! water—give me some!
                "My voice might reach a friendly ear,
                        "But for that little drum!"

                'Mid moaning men—'mid dying men,
                        The drummer kept his way,
                And many a one, by "glory" lured,
                        Did curse the drum that day.

                "Rub-a-dub and rub-e-dub,"
                        The drummer beat aloud—
                The Shepherd died, and ere the morn,
                        The hot sand was bis shroud.

                And this is glory? Yes; and still
                        Will man the tempter follow,
                Nor learn that glory, like its drum,
                        Is but a sound and hollow.

The Grave of the Year

Lines written for the thirty-first of December . by Montgarner. Originally published in The Casket, or Flowers of Literature, Wit and Sent...