Jezreel

On Its Seizure By The English Under Allenby, September 1918 Did they catch as it were in a Vision at shut of the day- When their cavalry smote through the ancient Esdraelon Plain, And they crossed where the Tishbite stood forth in his enemy's way- His gaunt mournful Shade as he bade the King haste off amain? On war-men at this end of time-even on Englishmen's eyes- Who slay with their arms of new might in that long-ago place, Flashed he who drove furiously? . . . Ah, did the phantom arise Of that queen, of that proud Tyrian woman who painted her face? Faintly marked they the words 'Throw her down!' rise from Night eerily, Spectre-spots of the blood of her body on some rotten wall? And the thin note of pity that came: 'A King's daughter is she,' As they passed where she trodden was once by the chargers' footfall? Could such be the hauntings of men of to-day, at the cease Of pursuit, at the dusk-hour, ere slumber their senses could seal? Enghosted seers, kings-one on horseback who asked 'Is it peace?'… Yea, strange things and spectral may men have beheld in Jezreel! September 24, 1918.