Page:Poems Proctor.djvu/42

 The roar of hosts was in my ears,
Their fury in my brain,
 And I vowed to the God of the Faithful
His Prophet alone should reign!

 Now who is on the side of God
To fight this fight with me,—
 To break the ranks of the Infidels
And hurl them back to the sea,
 And all this tortured, trampled land
From greed and spoil to free?
 This land where the bitter cry goes up
From even the lips of the dumb:
 "Mata yathar El Mahdi—
When will the Mahdi come? "'
 Who yearns for bliss in Paradise?
Who fears eternal flame?
 Let him follow me to the Holy War
For the glory of Allah's name!
 Leave your flocks on the grassy hills
Of cool Atbara's stream;
 Under the palms by the lonely wells
No more at noontide dream;
 From Nile's fair groves and uplands,
From meadow and marsh and mere,
 Throng to the Crescent banner
With lance and shield and spear!
 Come on your flying stallions
From lordly Darfur's side;
 Bold from Sahara's burning depths
On your swift camels ride;