And seize the arms which flash’d round Salem’s shrine,
And wield for you the swords once waved for Palestine!
X.
All still, all voiceless!—and the billow’s roar
Alone replies! Alike their soul is gone
Who shared the funeral-feast on Œta’s shore,
And theirs that o’er the field of Ascalon
Swell’d the crusaders’ hymn! Then gird thou on
Thine armour, Eastern Queen! and meet the hour
Which waits thee ere the day’s fierce work is done