The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
THE NUN OF CARMEL'S LAMENT
AT THE CONQUEST OF ST. JEAN D'ACRE.
November 2, 1840.
Weepest thou! weepest thou! with victory won,
Dark-eyed daughter of the Syrian sun!
Where Carmel, a conqueror, cleaves the sky,
With the turban'd palm for his crest on high.
Dark-eyed daughter of the Syrian sun!
Where Carmel, a conqueror, cleaves the sky,
With the turban'd palm for his crest on high.
Tears! where the crescent moon is bright,
And the red, red cross hath prevail'd in fight,
And swarthy Misraim's doom is done,
And Syria is safe, and Acco won!
And the red, red cross hath prevail'd in fight,
And swarthy Misraim's doom is done,
And Syria is safe, and Acco won!
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I weep not the home of my Syrian birth,
Nor the victor's foot on my fathers' earth,
Nor the rushing rivers of Gentile gore,
That darken the floods upon Jewry's shore.
Nor the victor's foot on my fathers' earth,
Nor the rushing rivers of Gentile gore,
That darken the floods upon Jewry's shore.
But I grieve that the sweet and the holy Sign
With the Moslem banner should wave and shine;
I blush for the battle that blends in fame
Mohammed's and Isa Ben Mariam's name
With the Moslem banner should wave and shine;
I blush for the battle that blends in fame
Mohammed's and Isa Ben Mariam's name
Woe worth the war where the gain is loss!
Shame to the Crescent beside the Cross!
Trouble and dread to the pledge that gave
A Christian arm to a Pagan glaive!
Shame to the Crescent beside the Cross!
Trouble and dread to the pledge that gave
A Christian arm to a Pagan glaive!
I dream of the hearts that are lowly laid,
The warriors that wielded the beamy blade,
And waved to the winds yon blessèd sign,
In war for their God and his tarnished shrine.
The warriors that wielded the beamy blade,
And waved to the winds yon blessèd sign,
In war for their God and his tarnished shrine.
I think on the days that are quench'd and gone,
When the souls of England came sternly on,
To sweep from the lands the accursèd horde
That mock'd at the Cross and blasphemed its Lord.
When the souls of England came sternly on,
To sweep from the lands the accursèd horde
That mock'd at the Cross and blasphemed its Lord.
And I see where the Turkish cohorts ride—
The armies of Christ—they are side by side!
And I hear, in the city's funeral knell,
Old England's shout and the Islam yell.
The armies of Christ—they are side by side!
And I hear, in the city's funeral knell,
Old England's shout and the Islam yell.
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Tears then, and grief, for the Syrian sun,
With victory gained and with Acco won.
Oh! pride will be shame and triumph loss
Till the Crescent shiver beneath the Cross!
With victory gained and with Acco won.
Oh! pride will be shame and triumph loss
Till the Crescent shiver beneath the Cross!
November, 1840.
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |