Do neglect all your dear creations,
And all people and worldly contacts;
Do neglect all your hot earthly passions,
Think in days, and say prayers in nights.
...
Halls grew darker and somehow faded.
Grates of windows drowned in black.
Every knight, every beautiful lady
Knew the tiding: "The Queen's deadly sick."
...
There's a morn demon. He's of gauze and light,
The happy one - with golden hair.
Like skies, is blue his tunic's airy flood,
All - in a play of brilliants, fair. ...
You are but millions. Our unnumbered nations
Are as the sands upon the sounding shore.
We are the Scythians! We are the slit-eyed Asians!
Try to wage war with us-you'll try no more! ...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.