The Turk in Armenia

William Watson (1858–1935)

From “The Purple East”

WHAT profits it, O England, to prevail

In camp and mart and council, and bestrew

With argosies thy oceans, and renew

With tribute levied on each golden gale

Thy treasuries, if thou canst hear the wail

Of women martyred by the turbaned crew,

Whose tenderest mercy was the sword that slew,

And lift no hand to wield the purging flail?

We deemed of old thou held’st a charge from Him

Who watches girdled by his seraphim,

To smite the wronger with thy destined rod.

Wait’st thou his sign? Enough, the unanswered cry

Of virgin souls for vengeance, and on high

The gathering blackness of the frown of God!