Death and the Warrior

“Ay, warrior, arm! and wear thy plume
On a proud and fearless brow!
I am the lord of the lonely tomb,
And a mightier one than thou!

“Bid thy soul’s love farewell, young chief--
Bid her a long farewell!
Like the morning’s dew shall pass that grief:
Thou comest with me to dwell!

“Thy bark may rush through the foaming deep,
Thy steed o’er the breezy hill;
But they bear thee on to a place of sleep,
Narrow, and cold, and chill!”

“Was the voice I heard thy voice, O Death!
And is thy day so near?
Then on the field shall my life’s last breath
Mingle with victory’s cheer!

“Banners shall float, with the trumpet’s note,
Above me as I die!
And the palm-tree wave o’er my noble grave,
Under the Syrian sky.

“High hearts shall burn in the royal hall,
When the minstrel names that spot;
And the eyes I love shall weep my fall.--
Death, Death, I fear thee not!”

“Warrior! thou bear’st a haughty heart,
But I can bend its pride!
How shouldst thou know that thy soul will part
In the hour of victory’s tide?

“It may be far from thy steel-clad bands
That I shall make thee mine;
It may be lone on the desert sands,
Where men for fountains pine!

“It may be deep amidst heavy chains,
In some deep Paynim hold;
I have slow, dull steps and lingering pains
Wherewith to tame the bold!”

“Death, Death! I go to a doom unblest,
If this indeed must be;
But the Cross is bound upon my breast,
And I may not shrink for thee!

“Sound, clarion! sound!--for my vows are given
To the cause of the holy shrine;
I bow my soul to the will of heaven,
O Death!--and not to thine!”