THERE is a sound of thunder afar,
Storm in the South that darkens the day!
Storm of battle and thunder of war!
Well if it do not roll our way.
Storm, Storm, Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready against the storm!
Riflemen, Riflemen, Riflemen form!
Be not deaf to the sound that warns,
Let your reforms for a moment go!
Form, be ready to do or die!
|1. I have been asked to republish this old poem, which was first published in ‘The Times,’ May 9, 1859, before the Volunteer movement began. [back]|