ROLL OF THE KETTLEDRUM 



Oh, man ! we at least, we enjoy, with thanks- 

 giving, 

 God's gifts on this earth, though we look 

 not beyond. 



You sin, and you suffer, and we, too, find 

 sorrow. 

 Perchance through jk^^^ sin — yet it soon 

 will be o'er ; 

 We labour to-day, and we slumber to-morrow, 

 Strong horse and bold rider ! — and wko 

 knoweth more ? 



• • • • • 



In our barrack-square shouted Drill-sergeant 

 McCluskie, 

 The roll of the kettledrum rapidly ran, 

 The colonel wheel'd short, speaking once, dry 

 and husky, 

 "" Would to God I had died with your 

 master, old man." 



