Work-a-day Warriors/Le Tambour

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LE TAMBOUR

As I rode through the town of Aire,
Up the long street did come
A little lad who lustily
Did beat a little drum,
Did bang a brazen cymbal
And beat upon a drum.

His father died at Verdun,
His mother weeps in Aire;
The little lad drums undismayed,
How should he know or care
That each tuck makes her tears to start—
That he beats tattoo on her heart?

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