Part 3 (1/2)
The swish of the sabre, The swish of the sabre, Was a marvellous tune in our ears.
We yelled ”We are men, We are men.”
As we bled to death in the sun....
Then staunched our horrible wounds With the cry that the battle was won....
And at last, When the black-mammoth legion Split the night with their song:-- ”Right is braver than wrong, Right is stronger than wrong,”
The buzzards came taunting: ”Down from the north Tiger-nations are sweeping along.”
Then we ate of the ravening Leaf As our savage fathers of old.
No longer our wounds made us weak, No longer our pulses were cold.
Though half of my troops were afoot, (For the great who had borne them were slain) We dreamed we were tigers, and leaped And foamed with that vision insane.
We cried ”We are soldiers of doom, Doom, Sabres of glory and doom.”
We wreathed the king of the mammoths In the tiger-leaves' terrible bloom.
We flattered the king of the mammoths, Loud-rattling sabres and spears.
The swish of the sabre, The swish of the sabre, Was a marvellous tune in his ears.
V
This was the end of the battle.
The tigers poured by in a tide Over us all with their caterwaul call, ”We are the tigers,”
They cried.
”We are the sabres,”
They cried.
But we laughed while our blades swept wide, While the dawn-rays stabbed through the gloom.
”We are suns on fire” was our yell-- ”Suns on fire.” ...
But man-child and mastodon fell, Mammoth and elephant fell.
The fangs of the devil-cats closed on the world, Plunged it to blackness and doom.
The desolate red-clay wall Echoed the parrots' call:-- ”Immortal is the inner peace, free to beasts and men.
Beginning in the darkness, the mystery will conquer, And now it comforts every heart that seeks for love again.
And now the mammoth bows the knee, We hew down every Tiger Tree, We send each tiger bound in love and glory to his den, Bound in love ... and wisdom ... and glory, ... to his den.”
A peac.o.c.k screamed of his beauty On that broken wall by the trees, Chiding his little mate, Spreading his fans in the breeze ...
And you, with eyes of a bride, Knelt on the wall at my side, The deathless song in your mouth ...
A million new tigers swept south ...
As we laughed at the peac.o.c.k, and died.
This is my vision in Springfield: Three times as high as the dome, Tiger-striped trees encircle the town, Golden geysers of foam;-- Though giant white parrots sail past, giving voice, Though I walk with Peace-of-the-Heart and rejoice.