Now a war like distant thunder muttered in the darkened air; In the sky a fowl of omen hovered o'er to rob our graves; And men, like birds affrighted, hurried homeward in despair. We heard the tramp of armies like the far-off march of waves.
War a pestilent disease is on the body of the world — A disease that sometimes purges, but still leaves the victim sore; And no potent drug will cure it until Liberty has furled All the standards of the nations, and shall rule for evermore.
What availed my marble buildings where I bartered for my gold? All my gains were vainly gotten, for Eudocia was not mine. Then my goods I turned to money, all my ships and houses sold, And sent the glittering product far away from Constantine.
On us like a wild hawk swooping came Damrémont with his men; But we saw his wing-like banners and we closed and barred the gates; All the women urged to battle; every man a hero then; And the Kabyles based reliance on the friendship of the Fates.
I held that love of country was a higher love of self, With generous ends, but selfish still, whatever might be said; I forgot my boasted honor; I had garnered all my pelf; I became a hissing traitor to the land I owed my bread.
All was plain; if I was faithful, then Eudocia was lost; Recreant, and gaining victory, I could claim her as my right. I scarcely weighed the balance, and I dared not count the cost; I stole out from the city to the alien camp that night.
I was loyal to the purpose that within my heart was shrined; Another might have coped with it, and triumphed o'er its fall. So men are, they do not vary much, the level of mankind, What one lacks the next possesses; there are faults enough in all.
Down the cliff I slipped in silence; and the troubled cypress leaves Quivered like sweet lips in anguish, while the star eyes wept with dew; And I sought the French commander, where, amid his musket sheaves, He sat and planned new reaping in a field that Azrael knew.
“I have come to bring assistance, if you take my terms,” I said, “For I know the weakest portion of the city's scowling wall. There's a maiden named Eudocia I would sell my soul to wed; Give me the right to have her, and I freely tell you all.”
Then he smiled across his table as he granted my desire — Smile of memory begotten, some remembrance of delight — And he heard my story quietly, but said he would require Me to go into the city as a spy the coming night.
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