January 9, 2005

  • Opportunity

    Opportunity
    by Edward Rowland Sill

    This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:
    There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
    And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
    A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
    Shocked upon swords and shields.
      A prince’s banner
    Wavered, then staggered backward,
      hemmed by foes.
    A craven hung along the battle’s edge
    And thought, “Had I a sword of keener steel –
    That blue blade that the king’s son bears —
      but this
    Blunt thing –!” He snapt and flung it from
      his hand,
    And lowering, crept away and left the field.
    Then came the king’s son, wounded,
      sore bestead,
    And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
    Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
    And ran and snatched it, and with
      battle-shout
    Lifted afresh, he hewed his enemy down,
    And saved a great cause that heroic day.

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