Classic Poem

Now a war like distant thunder muttered in the darkened air;
In the sky a fowl of omen hovered o'er to rob our graves;
And men, like birds affrighted, hurried homeward in despair.
We heard the tramp of armies like the far-off march of waves.

War a pestilent disease is on the body of the world--
A disease that sometimes purges, but still leaves the victim sore;
And no potent drug will cure it until Liberty has furled
All the standards of the nations, and shall rule for evermore.

What availed my marble buildings where I bartered for my gold?
All my gains were vainly gotten, for Eudocia was not mine.
Then my goods I turned to money, all my ships and houses sold,
And sent the glittering product far away from Constantine.

On us like a wild hawk swooping came Damrémont with his men;
But we saw his wing-like banners and we closed and barred the gates;
All the women urged to battle; every man a hero then;
And the Kabyles based reliance on the friendship of the Fates.

I held that love of country was a higher love of self,
With generous ends, but selfish still, whatever might be said;
I forgot my boasted honor; I had garnered all my pelf;
I became a hissing traitor to the land I owed my bread.

All was plain; if I was faithful, then Eudocia was lost;
Recreant, and gaining victory, I could claim her as my right.
I scarcely weighed the balance, and I dared not count the cost;
I stole out from the city to the alien camp that night.

I was loyal to the purpose that within my heart was shrined;
Another might have coped with it, and triumphed o'er its fall.
So men are, they do not vary much, the level of mankind,
What one lacks the next possesses; there are faults enough in all.

Down the cliff I slipped in silence; and the troubled cypress leaves
Quivered like sweet lips in anguish, while the star eyes wept with dew;
And I sought the French commander, where, amid his musket sheaves,
He sat and planned new reaping in a field that Azrael knew.

"I have come to bring assistance, if you take my terms," I said,
"For I know the weakest portion of the city's scowling wall.
There's a maiden named Eudocia I would sell my soul to wed;
Give me the right to have her, and I freely tell you all."

Then he smiled across his table as he granted my desire--
Smile of memory begotten, some remembrance of delight--
And he heard my story quietly, but said he would require
Me to go into the city as a spy the coming night.