Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume VIII. National Spirit. 1904. | | | | III. War | | Harmosan | | Richard Chenevix Trench (1807–1886) |
| | | NOW the third and fatal conflict for the Persian throne was done, | |
| And the Moslem’s fiery valor had the crowning victory won. | |
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| Harmosan, the last and boldest the invader to defy, | |
| Captive, overborn by numbers, they were bringing forth to die. | |
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| Then exclaimed that noble captive: “Lo, I perish in my thirst; | 5 |
| Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst!” | |
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| In his hand he took the goblet: but awhile the draught forbore, | |
| Seeming doubtfully the purpose of the foeman to explore. | |
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| Well might then have paused the bravest—for, around him, angry foes | |
| With a hedge of naked weapons did the lonely man enclose. | 10 |
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| “But what fear’st thou?” cried the caliph; “is it, friend, a secret blow? | |
| Fear it not! our gallant Moslems no such treacherous dealing know. | |
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| “Thou may’st quench thy thirst securely, for thou shalt not die before | |
| Thou hast drunk that cup of water—this reprieve is thine—no more!” | |
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| Quick the satrap dashed the goblet down to earth with ready hand, | 15 |
| And the liquid sank forever, lost amid the burning sand. | |
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| “Thou hast said that mine my life is, till the water of that cup | |
| I have drained; then bid thy servants that spilled water gather up!” | |
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| For a moment stood the caliph as by doubtful passions stirred— | |
| Then exclaimed: “For ever sacred must remain a monarch’s word. | 20 |
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| Bring another cup, and straightway to the noble Persian give: | |
| Drink, I said before, and perish—now I bid thee drink and live!” | | | | |
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