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Translated by Percy Boyd A TRUMPETER at Katzbach, | |
| As the storm of fight swept by, | |
| His life-blood ebbing slowly, | |
| Had laid him down to die. | |
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| No ease the wound was bringing | 5 |
| Within his stricken breast; | |
| Until he hears of victory | |
| He does not pray for rest. | |
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| As he lay alone and dying, | |
| Upon the blood-stained ground, | 10 |
| Upon his ear comes floating | |
| A clarions well-known sound. | |
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| From the cold earth he rises, | |
| As he hears the glorious strain; | |
| And on his stately charger | 15 |
| The trumpeter sits again. | |
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| Then forth he takes his trumpet, | |
| Once more with nervous hand, | |
| And rings with peal like thunder, | |
| Victoria! oer the land. | 20 |
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| Victory! sounds the trumpet, | |
| Victory! far and near! | |
| Again that glorious echo | |
| Sings thrilling on the ear. | |
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| But with that blast of thunder | 25 |
| His martial spirit fled; | |
| And from his stately charger | |
| The trumpeter falls dead! | |
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| Then as their comrades obsequies | |
| The serried ranks attend, | 30 |
| Spake softly the field-marshal, | |
| His was a happy end! | |
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