I’d not give way for an Emperor,
I’d hold my road for a King—­
To the Triple Crown I would not bow down—­
But this is a different thing.
I’ll not fight with the Powers of Air,
Sentry, pass him through! 
Drawbridge let fall, it’s the Lord of us all,
The Dreamer whose dreams come true!

A SONG TO MITHRAS

(Hymn of the 30th Legion:  circa A.D. 350.)

Mithras, God of the Morning, our trumpets waken the Wall! 
‘Rome is above the Nations, but Thou art over all!’
Now as the names are answered and the guards are marched away,
Mithras, also a soldier, give us strength for the day!

Mithras, God of the Noontide, the heather swims in the heat. 
Our helmets scorch our foreheads, our sandals burn our feet. 
Now in the ungirt hour—­now ere we blink and drowse,
Mithras, also a soldier, keep us true to our vows!

Mithras, God of the Sunset, low on the Western main—­
Thou descending immortal, immortal to rise again! 
Now when the watch is ended, now when the wine is drawn,
Mithras, also a soldier, keep us pure till the dawn!

Mithras, God of the Midnight, here where the great bull dies,
Look on thy children in darkness.  Oh take our sacrifice! 
Many roads thou hast fashioned—­all of them lead to the Light: 
Mithras, also a soldier, teach us to die aright!

THE NEW KNIGHTHOOD

Who gives him the Bath? 
‘I,’ said the wet,
Rank Jungle-sweat,
‘I’ll give him the Bath!’

Who’ll sing the psalms? 
‘We,’ said the Palms. 
’Ere the hot wind becalms,
We’ll sing the psalms.’

Who lays on the sword? 
‘I,’ said the Sun,
’Before he has done,
I’ll lay on the sword.’

Who fastens his belt? 
‘I,’ said Short-Rations,
’I know all the fashions
Of tightening a belt!’

Who gives him his spur? 
‘I,’ said his Chief,
Exacting and brief,
‘I’ll give him the spur.’

Who’ll shake his hand? 
‘I,’ said the Fever,
’And I’m no deceiver,
I’ll shake his hand.’

Who brings him the wine? 
‘I,’ said Quinine,
’It’s a habit of mine.
‘I’ll come with the wine.’

Who’ll put him to proof? 
‘I,’ said All Earth,
’Whatever he’s worth,
I’ll put to the proof.’

Who’ll choose him for Knight? 
‘I,’ said his Mother,
’Before any other,
My very own Knight.’

And after this fashion, adventure to seek,
Was Sir Galahad made—­as it might be last week!

OUTSONG IN THE JUNGLE

BALOO