Classic Poem

We are perfumed, sleek and curled,
We, the terror of the world,
And we march upon our bastions blowing trumpets of defiance.
We have only one desire,
To press on through blood and fire,
And in Moloch the majestic we have absolute reliance.

Like comets shine our shields
When we rush upon the fields;
There on earth exists no nation that would dare to show resistance
When our startling battle-cries
Rise in fury to the skies,
When we fight with heavy lances and the gods' sublime assistance.

We are dreaded far and wide;
Of the King we are the pride,
And our fame has spread and ripened in each province and each village;
And the traitor's native ground
Shakes and trembles at the sound
Of our coming for the challenge, for the combat, for the pillage!

Our long terrifying darts
Hotly pierce the rebel hearts;
Even great Nineveh, our sister, as a proverb hails our valor.
We have jeweled troops of horse
When we charge through town in force,
And our shields of brass like mirrors e'er reflect the foeman's pallor.

In our lofty zigurats,
Idly dreaming on our mats,
When peace reigns in the dominion and the city burns with pleasure,
We recall with fierce delight
The last echoes of the fight,
And the captured shields and horses of the enemy we treasure.

Oh great Merodach, appear!
We are worn of rusting here;
Lead us onward toward the Shuhites, who in strife were beaten never;
O'er their pastures green and wide
Let us insolently ride,
And with spear, and dart, and chariot let us crush them down forever!