A Poem

[terryintacoma]

by Edward Rowland Sill<br>1887<br><br><br>OPPORTUNITY<br><br>This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:-<br><br>There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;<br><br>And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged<br><br>A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords<br><br>Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner<br><br>Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.<br><br><br>A craven hung along the battle's edge,<br><br>And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel-<br><br>That blue blade that the king's son bears,- but this<br><br>Blunt thing-!" he snapt and flung it from his hand,<br><br>And lowering crept away and left the field.<br><br><br>Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead,<br><br>And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,<br><br>Hilt buried in the dry and trodden sand,<br><br>And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout<br><br>Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,<br><br>And saved a great cause that heroic day. <p></p><i></i>