And then the sound of marching armies 'woke
Amid the branches of the soldier oak,
And tempests ceased their warring cry, and dumb
The lashing storms that muttered, overcome,
Choked by the heralding of battle smoke,
When these gnarled branches beat their martial drum.
The Giant Oak
Emily Pauline Johnson
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Poem topics: soldier, battle, sound, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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