English poem
When the hollow drum has beat to…
by Anonymous
When the hollow drum has beat to bed; When the little fifer hangs his head; Still and mute, The moorish flute, And nodding guards watch wearily; Then will we, From prison free, March out by moonlight cheerily.
When the Moorish cymbals clash by day, When the brazen trumpets shrilly bray, The slave in vain, Must then complain Of tyranny and knavery: Would he know, His time to go, And slily slip from slavery:
'Tis when the hollow drum has beat to bed; When the little fifer hangs his head; Still and mute, The moorish flute, And nodding guards watch wearily; Oh then must he, From prison free, March out by moonlight cheerily.