Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
III. WarHarmosan
Richard Chenevix Trench (18071886)N
And the Moslem’s fiery valor had the crowning victory won.
Captive, overborn by numbers, they were bringing forth to die.
Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst!”
Seeming doubtfully the purpose of the foeman to explore.
With a hedge of naked weapons did the lonely man enclose.
Fear it not! our gallant Moslems no such treacherous dealing know.
Thou hast drunk that cup of water—this reprieve is thine—no more!”
And the liquid sank forever, lost amid the burning sand.
I have drained; then bid thy servants that spilled water gather up!”
Then exclaimed: “For ever sacred must remain a monarch’s word.
Drink, I said before, and perish—now I bid thee drink and live!”