Part 8 (1/2)

Sheer through the turban his wantons wove him, Clean to the skull the Deliverer clove him; And the two hosts reeled at the sign appalling, As the great king fell like a great house falling.

Loudly we shouted, and living and dying.

Bore them all backward with strength and strong crying; And Caleb struck Zedek hard at the throat, And j.a.phia of Lachish Zebulon smote.

The war-swords and axes were clas.h.i.+ng and groaning, The fallen were fighting and foaming and moaning; The war-spears were breaking, the war-horns were braying, Ere the hands of the slayers were sated with slaying.

And deep in the gra.s.ses grown gory and sodden, The treaders of all men were trampled and trodden; And over them, routed and reeled like cattle, High over the turn of the tide of the battle, High over noises that deafen and cover us, Rang the Deliverer's voice out over us.

'Stand thou still, thou sun upon Gibeon, Stand thou, moon, in the valley of Ajalon!

Shout thou, people, a cry like thunder, For the kings of the earth are broken asunder.

Now we have said as the thunder says it, Something is stronger than strength and slays it.

Now we have written for all time later, Five kings are great, yet a law is greater.

Stare, O sun! in thine own great glory, This is the turn of the whole world's story.

Stand thou still, thou sun upon Gibeon, Stand thou, moon, in the valley of Ajalon!

'Smite! amid spear-blades blazing and breaking.

More than we know of is rising and making.

Stab with the javelin, crash with the car!

Cry! for we know not the thing that we are.

Stand, O sun! that in horrible patience Smiled on the smoke and the slaughter of nations.

Thou shalt grow sad for a little crying, Thou shalt be darkened for one man's dying-- Stand thou still, thou sun upon Gibeon, Stand thou, moon, in the valley of Ajalon!'

After the battle was broken and spent Up to the hill the Deliverer went, Flung up his arms to the storm-clouds flying, And cried unto Israel, mightily crying, 'Come up, O warriors! come up, O brothers!

Tribesmen and herdsmen, maidens and mothers; The bondman's son and the bondman's daughter, The hewer of wood and the drawer of water, He that carries and he that brings, And set your foot on the neck of kings.'

This is the story of Gibeon fight-- Where we smote the lords of the Amorite; Where the banners of princes with slaughter were sodden.

And the beards of seers in the rank gra.s.s trodden; Where the trees were wrecked by the wreck of cars, And the reek of the red field blotted the stars; Where the dead heads dropped from the swords that sever, Because His mercy endureth for ever.

'VULGARISED'

All round they murmur, 'O profane, Keep thy heart's secret hid as gold'; But I, by G.o.d, would sooner be Some knight in shattering wars of old,

In brown outlandish arms to ride, And shout my love to every star With lungs to make a poor maid's name Deafen the iron ears of war.

Here, where these subtle cowards crowd, To stand and so to speak of love, That the four corners of the world Should hear it and take heed thereof.

That to this shrine obscure there be One witness before all men given, As naked as the hanging Christ, As shameless as the sun in heaven.

These whimperers--have they spared to us One dripping woe, one reeking sin?