by Edgar Holt
Why do you listen, watcher? Do you hear,
rising above the urgent voice of pain,
above the babble of the world, a clear,
unbroken music, like the Spring again;
the shining music of a faith which springs
out of the hearts of men, that there shall be
freedom once more, with such unburdened wings
that man shall rise to find humanity?
What is the music, watcher, that I hear?
A symphony more clamant1 than the seas,
to dumb the counterpoint of hate and fear,
and dirge of dead, forsaken loyalties?
'You hear, my friend, the trumpet of revolt,
snarling the message of a thunderbolt.'
Edgar Holt (1932)
1 clamant - noisy