Thou that on every field of earth and sky
Didst hunt for d**h--that seemed to flee and fear--
How great and greatly fallen dost thou lie
Slain in the Desert by some wandering spear!
"Not here," alas! may England say--"not here
Nor in this quarrel was it meet to die,
But in that dreadful battle drawing nigh,
To shake the Afghan pa**es strait and sheer."
Like Aias by the Ships shouldst thou have stood,
And in some glen have stayed the stream of flight,
The pillar of thy people and their shield,
Till Helmund or till Indus ran with blood,
And back, towards the Northlands and the Night,
The stricken Eagles scattered from the field.