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THE GUIDES AT CABUL
75
And the Guides looked down from their smouldering barrack again,And behold, a banner of truce, and a voice that spoke:"Come, for we know that the English all are slain,We keep no feud with men of a kindred folk;Rejoice with us to be free of the conqueror's yoke."Silence fell for a moment, then was heardA sound of laughter and scorn, and an answering word.
"Is it we or the lords we serve who have earned this wrong,That ye call us to flinch from the battle they bade us fight?We that live—do ye doubt that our hands are strong?They that have fallen—ye know that their blood was bright!Think ye the Guides will barter for lust of the lightThe pride of an ancient people in warfare bred,Honour of comrades living, and faith to the dead?"
Then the joy that spurs the warrior's heartTo the last thundering gallop and sheer leapCame on the men of the Guides; they flung apartThe doors not all their valour could longer keep;They dressed their slender line; they breathed deep,And with never a foot lagging or head bent,To the clash and clamour and dust of death they went.
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