The Congo and Other Poems | Page 9

buzzing bass
of fire-engines pumping. #
The reins in his hands,
In the fire-chief's place
In the night alarm
chase.
The cymbals whang,
The kettledrums bang: --
# In this passage the reading or
chanting
is shriller and higher. #
"Clear the street,
Clear the street,
Clear the street -- Boom, boom.

In the evening gloom,
In the evening gloom,
Give the engines room,

Give the engines room,
Lest souls be trapped
In a terrible tomb."

The sparks and the pine-brands
Whirl on high
From the black
and reeking alleys
To the wide red sky.
Hear the hot glass crashing,

Hear the stone steps hissing.
Coal black streams
Down the
gutters pour.
There are cries for help
From a far fifth floor.
For a
longer ladder
Hear the fire-chief call.
Listen to the music
Of the
firemen's ball.
Listen to the music
Of the firemen's ball.
# To be read or chanted in a heavy bass. # "'Tis the
NIGHT
Of
doom,"
Say the ding-dong doom-bells.
"NIGHT
Of doom,"

Say the ding-dong doom-bells.
Faster, faster
The red flames come.

"Hum grum," say the engines,
"Hum grum grum."
# Shriller and higher. #
"Buzz, buzz,"
Says the crowd.
"See, see,"

Calls the crowd.
"Look out,"

Yelps the crowd
And the high
walls fall: --
Listen to the music
Of the firemen's ball.
Listen to
the music
Of the firemen's ball.
# Heavy bass. #
"'Tis the
NIGHT
Of doom,"
Say the ding-dong
doom-bells.
"NIGHT
Of doom,"
Say the ding-dong doom-bells.

Whangaranga, whangaranga,
Whang, whang, whang,
Clang,
clang, clangaranga,
# Bass, much slower. #
Clang, clang, clang.
Clang--a--ranga--


Clang--a--ranga--
Clang,
Clang,
Clang.
Listen -- to -- the --
music --
Of the firemen's ball --
Section Two
"Many's the heart that's breaking
If we could read them all
After the
ball is over." (An old song.)
# To be read or sung slowly and
softly,
in the manner of lustful,
insinuating music. #
Scornfully, gaily
The bandmaster sways,
Changing the strain
That
the wild band plays.
With a red and royal intoxication,
A tangle of
sounds
And a syncopation,
Sweeping and bending
From side to
side,
Master of dreams,
With a peacock pride.
A lord of the
delicate flowers of delight
He drives compunction
Back through the
night.
Dreams he's a soldier
Plumed and spurred,
And valiant lads

Arise at his word,
Flaying the sober
Thoughts he hates,
Driving
them back
From the dream-town gates.
How can the languorous

Dancers know
The red dreams come
# To be read or chanted slowly and
softly
in the manner of lustful
insinuating music. #
When the good dreams go?
"'Tis the
NIGHT
Of love,"
Call the
silver joy-bells,
"NIGHT
Of love,"
Call the silver joy-bells.

"Honey and wine,
Honey and wine.
Sing low, now, violins,

Sing,
sing low,
Blow gently, wood-wind,
Mellow and slow.
Like
midnight poppies
The sweethearts bloom.
Their eyes flash power,

Their lips are dumb.
Faster and faster
Their pulses come,

Though softer now
The drum-beats fall.
Honey and wine,
Honey
and wine.
'Tis the firemen's ball,
'Tis the firemen's ball.
# With a climax of whispered mourning. # "I am slain,"
Cries

true-love
There in the shadow.
"And I die,"
Cries true-love,

There laid low.
"When the fire-dreams come,
The wise dreams go."
# Suddenly interrupting. To be
read or sung in
a heavy bass. First eight lines
as harsh as possible.
Then gradually musical and
sonorous. #
BUT HIS CRY IS DROWNED
BY THE PROUD
BAND-MASTER.
And now great gongs whang,
Sharper, faster,

And kettledrums rattle
And hide the shame
With a swish and a
swirk
In dead love's name.
Red and crimson
And scarlet and rose

Magical poppies
The sweethearts bloom.
The scarlet stays

When the rose-flush goes,
And love lies low
In a marble tomb.

"'Tis the
NIGHT
Of doom,"
Call the ding-dong doom-bells.

"NIGHT
Of Doom,"
Call the ding-dong doom-bells.
# Sharply interrupting in a very high key. # Hark how the piccolos still
make cheer.
"'Tis a moonlight night in the spring of the year."
# Heavy bass. #
CLANGARANGA, CLANGARANGA,

CLANG . . . CLANG . . . CLANG.
CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA . . .

CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA . . .
CLANG .