O, now, for ever Farewell the tranquil mind farewell content Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars That make ambition virtue O, farewell Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell Othello's occupation's gone
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Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!
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'Oh beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly, Play the Dead March as you carry me along;...
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Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled...
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Only the drum is confident, it thinks the world has not changed;
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If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.
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Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled/ In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.
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I have a simple life. I mean, you just give me a drum roll, they announce my name, and I come out and sing. In my job I have a contract that says I'm a singer. So I sing.
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When we are in health, all sounds fife and drum for us; we hear the notes of music in the air, or catch its echoes dying away when we awake in...
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