About: On the Capture of Jerusalem in the First Crusade   Sponge Permalink

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But what defence can tears afford? What aid supply in this dread hour? When, kindled by the sparkling sword, War's raging flames the land devour! No more let sleep's seductive charms Upon your torpid souls be shed: A crash like this, such dire alarms, Might burst the slumbers of the dead. Think where your dear companions lie— Survey their fate, and hear their woes: How some through trackless deserts fly, Some in the vulture's maw repose; While some, more wretched still, must bear The tauntings of a Christian's tongue;— Hear this—and blush ye not to wear The silken robe of peace so long?

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rdfs:label
  • On the Capture of Jerusalem in the First Crusade
rdfs:comment
  • But what defence can tears afford? What aid supply in this dread hour? When, kindled by the sparkling sword, War's raging flames the land devour! No more let sleep's seductive charms Upon your torpid souls be shed: A crash like this, such dire alarms, Might burst the slumbers of the dead. Think where your dear companions lie— Survey their fate, and hear their woes: How some through trackless deserts fly, Some in the vulture's maw repose; While some, more wretched still, must bear The tauntings of a Christian's tongue;— Hear this—and blush ye not to wear The silken robe of peace so long?
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Previous
Author
  • Modaffar of Abiward
Title
  • On the Capture of Jerusalem in the First Crusade
Translator
  • W. A. Clouston
Notes
  • Translated in 1881.
abstract
  • But what defence can tears afford? What aid supply in this dread hour? When, kindled by the sparkling sword, War's raging flames the land devour! No more let sleep's seductive charms Upon your torpid souls be shed: A crash like this, such dire alarms, Might burst the slumbers of the dead. Think where your dear companions lie— Survey their fate, and hear their woes: How some through trackless deserts fly, Some in the vulture's maw repose; While some, more wretched still, must bear The tauntings of a Christian's tongue;— Hear this—and blush ye not to wear The silken robe of peace so long? Remember what ensanguined showers The Syrian plains with crimson dyed; And think how many blooming flowers In Syrian forts their beauties hide. Arabian youths! in such a cause Can ye the voice of glory slight? Warriors of Persia! Can ye pause, Or fear to mingle in the fight? If neither piety nor shame Your breasts can warm, your souls can move, Let emulation's bursting flame Wake you to Vengeance and to Love!
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