Most activist Muslims, like me, will always fight to protect Jews from anti-Semitism but will always fight the racist and apartheid goals of Zionism. Zionism requires a continuous shrill cacophony in the background, for it requires the suspension of reason in asserting that an end goal for one people can be justified by any means against another.
akber choudhryBeneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn, The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
thomas grayThe merry cuckoo, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.
Edmund SpenserOld age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze. Gaining and failing they are buffeted by a dark wind — But what? On harsh weedstalks the flock has rested — the snow is covered with broken seed husks and the wind tempered with a shrill piping of plenty.
william carlos williamsThou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.
Percy Bysshe ShelleyFarewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife.
william shakespeareHis voice no touch of harmony admits, Irregularly deep, and shrill by fits. The two extremes appear like man and wife Coupled together for the sake of strife.
Charles ChurchillThe merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.
Edmund SpenserNone but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings.
john lylyThou art a female, Katydid! I know it by the trill That quivers through thy piercing notes So petulant and shrill. I think there is a knot of you Beneath the hollow tree, A knot of spinster Katydids, Do Katydids drink tea?
Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam, Where the shrill winds whistle free.
charles mackayConscience avaunt, Richard's himself again: Hark! the shrill trumpet sounds, to horse, away, My soul's in arms, and eager for the fray.