Put away the flutes Into their careful clefts, And cut the violins that like ivy climb Flat to their very roots; All that a subtler time Allowed us we must now commute To commoner modes; for here come The hieratic trumpet and demotic drum Fall in and follow, let the beat Hyphenate your halved feet, Feel its imbricating rhythm Obliterating every schism And split through which you might espy The idiosyncratic I; Let the assumptive trumpets pace And pattern out the sounding space Into stillnesses that numb.
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Authorship:
- by William Robert Rodgers (1909 - 1969), "Song for war" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Humphrey Searle (1915 - 1982), "Put away the flutes", op. 11 (1947) [ voice and instrumental ensemble (6 instruments) ] [sung text not yet checked]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-02-10
Line count: 17
Word count: 87