Canto 13 ("King, who betwixt the cross and…)

"King, who betwixt the cross and sword On ashes died in cowl and cord— In desert died; and, if thy heart Betrayed thee not, from life didst part A martyr for thy martyred Lord; Anointed one and undefiled— O warrior manful, tho' a child In simple faith—St. Louis! rise,

And teach us out of holy eyes Whence came thy trust."

So Rolfe, and shrank, Awed by that region dread and great; Thence led to take to heart the fate Of one who tried in such a blank, Believed—and died. Lurching was seen An Arab tall, on camel lean, Up laboring from a glen's remove, His long lance upright fixed above The gun across the knee in guard. So rocks in hollow trough of sea A wreck with one gaunt mast, and yard Displaced and slanting toward the lee. Closer he drew; with visage mute, Austere in passing made salute. Such courtesy may vikings lend Who through the dreary Hecla wend. Under gun, lance, and scabbard hacked Pressed Nehemiah; with ado High he reached up an Arab tract From the low ass—"Christ's gift to you!" With clatter of the steel he bore The lofty nomad bent him o'er In grave regard. The camel too

Her crane-like neck swerved round to view; Nor more to camel than to man Inserutable the ciphers ran. But wonted unto arid cheer, The beast, misjudging, snapped it up And would have munched, but let it drop; Her master, poling down his spear Transfixed the page and brought it near, Nor stayed his travel. On they went Through solitudes, till made intent

By small sharp shots which stirred rebound In echo. Over upland drear On tract of less obstructed ground Came fairly into open sight A mounted train in tulip plight: Ten Turks, whereof advanced rode four, With leveled pistols, left and right Graceful diverging, as in plume Feather from feather. So brave room They make for turning toward each shore Ambiguous in nooks of blight, Discharging shots; then reunite, And, with obeisance bland, adore Their prince, a fair youth, who, behind— 'Tween favorites of equal age, Brilliant in paynim equipage With Eastern dignity how sweet, Nods to their homage, pleased to mind Their gallant curvets. Still they meet, Salute and wheel, and him precede, As in a pleasure-park or mead.

The escorts join; and some would take To parley, as is wont. The Druze, Howbeit, hardly seems to choose The first advances here to make; Nor does he shun. Alert is seen One in voluminous turban green, Beneath which in that barren place Sheltered he looks as by the grace Of shady palm-tuft. Vernal he In sacerdotal chivalry: That turban by its hue declares That the great Prophet's blood he shares: Kept as the desert stallions be, 'Tis an attested pedigree. But ah, the bigot, he could lower In mosque on the intrusive Giaour. To make him truculent for creed Family-pride joined personal greed.

Tho' foremost here his word he vents— Officious in the conference, In rank and sway he ranged, in sooth, Behind that fine sultanic youth Which held his place apart, and, cool, In lapse or latency of rule Seemed mindless of the halting train And pilgrims there of Franquestan Or land of Franks. Remiss he wore An indolent look superior. His grade might justify the air: The viceroy of Damascus' heir. His father's jurisdiction sweeps From Lebanon to Ammon's steeps. Return he makes from mission far To independent tribes of war Beyond the Hauran. In advance Of the main escort, gun and lance, He aims for Salem back. This learned, In anxiousness the banker yearned To join; nor Glaucon seemed averse. 'Twas quick resolved, and soon arranged Through fair diplomacy of purse And Eastern compliments exchanged.

Their wine, in pannier of the mule, Upon the pilgrims they bestow: "And pledge us, friends, in valley cool, If such this doleful road may know: Farewell!" And so the Moslem train Received these Christians, happy twain.

They fled. And thou? The way is dun; Why further follow the Emir's son? Scarce yet the thought may well engage To lure thee thro' these leafless bowers That little avails a pilgrimage Whose road but winds among the flowers. Part here, then, would ye win release From ampler dearth; part, and in peace.

Nay, part like Glaucon, part with song: The note receding dies along:

"Tarry never there Where the air Lends a lone Hadean spell— Where the ruin and the wreck Vine and ivy never deck, And wizard wan and sibyl dwell: There, oh, beware!

"Rather seek the grove— Thither rove, Where the leaf that falls to ground In a violet upsprings, And the oracle that sings Is the bird above the mound: There, tarry there!"