The Trumpet Unblown
Kenyatta Smith
For the Angel of Death
Spread his wings on the blast
And breathed in the face
Of the foe as he pass'd
And the eyes of the sleepers
Wax'd deadly and chill
And their hearts but once heaved
And forever grew still
And there lay the steed
With his nostril all wide
But through it there roll'd
Not the breath of his pride
And the foam of his gasping
Lay white on the turf
And cold as the spray
Of the rock-beating surf
And there lay the rider
Distorted and pale
With the dew on his brow
And the rust on his mail
And the tents were all silent
The banners alone
The lances unlifted
The trumpet unblown