His words were like a wind that fanned a grass-fire: God would lend His hand
To purge away the infidel whose breath profaned the Holy Land.
He showered indulgences, and kissed the brows of those who would enlist
To take a chance of martyrdom or give the devil's tail a twist.
He promised we should see the light, that cursèd Arabs could not fight,
Counted them dead since we were "led by General Jesus," said the pope.
Moreover we must win and use Christ, His true Cross, the Widow's cruse,
All talismans that found no scope for miracles among the Jews.
Upon the walls the veriest dolt and clown, arow like birds that moult,
Chattered with one accord—or some small priestly prompting:—"Diex el volt."