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23
Bilâl the Muedzzin
God's Mohammed is dead!
He of the Prophet's choice,
He of the beautiful voice.
Bilâl now sits in the gate,
Bowed and disconsolate,
Cannot lift up his head;
And for his heart's great pain
He never will climb again
The twisted minaret stair,
Never will thrill the night
With the call of the Prophet to prayer,
Crying aloud in his might,
Over camp over castle and keep,
That ‘prayer is better than sleep’:
Bilâl is heart-broken, forlorn.
He of the Prophet's choice,
He of the beautiful voice.
Bilâl now sits in the gate,
Bowed and disconsolate,
Cannot lift up his head;
And for his heart's great pain
He never will climb again
The twisted minaret stair,
Never will thrill the night
With the call of the Prophet to prayer,
Crying aloud in his might,
Over camp over castle and keep,
That ‘prayer is better than sleep’:
Bilâl is heart-broken, forlorn.
The years have flown and the hair
That falls on his bosom is white,
But still with unquenchable fire
Bilâl the Muedzzin must share
The shame or the glory of fight,
The fury of Mussulman war;
Still must follow the host
That follows the crescent and star,
Still, whatever it cost,
Must mix with the conquering host
That, led by the Caliph Omar,
Will preach the New Faith by the sword.
That falls on his bosom is white,
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Bilâl the Muedzzin must share
The shame or the glory of fight,
The fury of Mussulman war;
Still must follow the host
That follows the crescent and star,
Still, whatever it cost,
Must mix with the conquering host
That, led by the Caliph Omar,
Will preach the New Faith by the sword.
And now from the blue sea's hem
And the shore's long carpet of grain,
Over the ridges of grey
That roll from Jerusalem
South to the Beersheba plain,
North to great Hermon, and height
Of Lebanon white with its snow,
The flame of the Paynim fight
Has flashed on its terrible way
Right through the heart of its foe,
Searing the land with its bale:
Yea, and the City that lies
By Pharpha, set like a gem,
Green in the golden sand,
Portal of Paradise,
Damas has opened its gates,
Has cast the crown from her hand,
Has bowed to the crescent and star
And owned the Caliph Omar.
And the shore's long carpet of grain,
Over the ridges of grey
That roll from Jerusalem
South to the Beersheba plain,
North to great Hermon, and height
Of Lebanon white with its snow,
The flame of the Paynim fight
Has flashed on its terrible way
Right through the heart of its foe,
Searing the land with its bale:
Yea, and the City that lies
By Pharpha, set like a gem,
Green in the golden sand,
Portal of Paradise,
Damas has opened its gates,
25
Has bowed to the crescent and star
And owned the Caliph Omar.
So to the sea by the coast
Has passed the victorious host,
Down by the way where of old
Sennacherib's car was rolled,
Down by the rocks that tell
The power of Nimrod and Bel;
And gathered there by the shore
Of burning Barytus they cry,
‘Caliph command once more
Thy warriors all draw nigh
And hear once again from the wall
A blessing from heaven fall,
Hear as in days gone by
Bilâl the Muedzzin cry.’
Has passed the victorious host,
Down by the way where of old
Sennacherib's car was rolled,
Down by the rocks that tell
The power of Nimrod and Bel;
And gathered there by the shore
Of burning Barytus they cry,
‘Caliph command once more
Thy warriors all draw nigh
And hear once again from the wall
A blessing from heaven fall,
Hear as in days gone by
Bilâl the Muedzzin cry.’
Then did the Caliph Omar
Command; and his men of war
Stood by the shore of the sea,
Silently man by man,
To listen the loud ‘Adhan.’
Command; and his men of war
Stood by the shore of the sea,
Silently man by man,
To listen the loud ‘Adhan.’
And Bilâl clomb up as of yore
The minaret there by the shore,
Climbed, but in panting and pain,
Rested his breath to gain;
Then with his face to the east
Waited till light be increased
And the rose should bloom in mid air,
And the Paradise gates unclose,
And the star should stoop through the rose
To hearken the call to prayer.
The minaret there by the shore,
26
Rested his breath to gain;
Then with his face to the east
Waited till light be increased
And the rose should bloom in mid air,
And the Paradise gates unclose,
And the star should stoop through the rose
To hearken the call to prayer.
He cried, and the listening sea
That before in its thunder was rolled,
Heedless of man and free,
Sank in purple and gold
To silence there on the beach,
And the wild fowl out in the bay
Clamorous ceased from speech,
And the dolphin stopped in his play.
That before in its thunder was rolled,
Heedless of man and free,
Sank in purple and gold
To silence there on the beach,
And the wild fowl out in the bay
Clamorous ceased from speech,
And the dolphin stopped in his play.
For words by Bilâl were cried
That, echoing far and wide,
Seawards and up to the land
Fell like a charm and were heard
By wandering dolphin and bird,
Heard by the wind-deafened tide,
Heard by the sea-deafened sand.
And there 'twixt the rose and the star
There by the solemn flood,
Spellbound, silent, there stood
The army of Caliph Omar;
Faces fierce from the scar,
Hearts made hungry by blood,
Hands made cruel by war.
That, echoing far and wide,
Seawards and up to the land
Fell like a charm and were heard
By wandering dolphin and bird,
Heard by the wind-deafened tide,
Heard by the sea-deafened sand.
And there 'twixt the rose and the star
There by the solemn flood,
27
The army of Caliph Omar;
Faces fierce from the scar,
Hearts made hungry by blood,
Hands made cruel by war.
For the quavering, wavering voice
Of the Man of Mohammed's choice
With ever-increasing power
To silver reverberance grew,
And the swarthy Mussulman crew
Felt on their heads a shower
Of sound, on their hearts a spell
Of a human resonant bell,
Waking old echoes that rang
From the past as Bilâl outsang.
Of the Man of Mohammed's choice
With ever-increasing power
To silver reverberance grew,
And the swarthy Mussulman crew
Felt on their heads a shower
Of sound, on their hearts a spell
Of a human resonant bell,
Waking old echoes that rang
From the past as Bilâl outsang.
Thrice over rampart and gate,
On the warriors hushed and still,
Fell with a magical thrill
The words ‘Our God he is great’:
Twice with unearthly tone,
‘Beside our God there is none.’
And lo! at the last came the cry,
Cry of an angel's voice,
‘Brothers I testify
Mohammed was our God's choice,
Mohammed his prophet alone.’
And answered the trembling air,
Over the land and the deep,
‘Prayer is better than sleep,
Worshippers come to prayer!’
On the warriors hushed and still,
Fell with a magical thrill
The words ‘Our God he is great’:
Twice with unearthly tone,
‘Beside our God there is none.’
And lo! at the last came the cry,
Cry of an angel's voice,
‘Brothers I testify
Mohammed was our God's choice,
28
And answered the trembling air,
Over the land and the deep,
‘Prayer is better than sleep,
Worshippers come to prayer!’
And at the Muedzzin's call,
There by the sea and the shore,
Clear on the minaret wall
Sudden to sight there starts
He their leader of yore,
He of the godlike form,
Lord of their joy and of pain,
King of their calm and their storm;
There by Bilâl once again,
He the delight of their eyes,
He the fire of their hearts,
Giver of Paradise,
Mohammed beloved evermore!
There by the sea and the shore,
Clear on the minaret wall
Sudden to sight there starts
He their leader of yore,
He of the godlike form,
Lord of their joy and of pain,
King of their calm and their storm;
There by Bilâl once again,
He the delight of their eyes,
He the fire of their hearts,
Giver of Paradise,
Mohammed beloved evermore!
Still the Muedzzin's call
Rang from the minaret stair,
Still from the city wall
Echoed the call to prayer;
And at the sound there came,
Warm and bright as a flame,
Memory clear of the days
When they lived for the Prophet's praise,
And would die for the Prophet's word.
And each unbuckled his sword,
And each man leaned on his spear
As 'twere but a staff of wood—
Men made fearless by fear,
Men made careless by blood.
And sudden between their eyes
And the crescent beside the star
A strange mist seemed to rise,
And the tear was felt on the cheek,
And the strong were a moment weak;
For the fierce wild men of war
Remembered the prophet's love
And all he would have them to be;
And through them man to man
A sound like a night wind ran,
Sound of a sighing deep,
As a forest that wakes from sleep,
And sobbed with the sob of a sea
The army of Caliph Omar.
Rang from the minaret stair,
Still from the city wall
Echoed the call to prayer;
And at the sound there came,
Warm and bright as a flame,
Memory clear of the days
29
And would die for the Prophet's word.
And each unbuckled his sword,
And each man leaned on his spear
As 'twere but a staff of wood—
Men made fearless by fear,
Men made careless by blood.
And sudden between their eyes
And the crescent beside the star
A strange mist seemed to rise,
And the tear was felt on the cheek,
And the strong were a moment weak;
For the fierce wild men of war
Remembered the prophet's love
And all he would have them to be;
And through them man to man
A sound like a night wind ran,
Sound of a sighing deep,
As a forest that wakes from sleep,
And sobbed with the sob of a sea
The army of Caliph Omar.
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