Opportunity

Once again, it has been some time since I last posted.  But here I am, back online and writing. 
Here is a poem I have been trying to re-locate for a while now.  It is another piece by Edward Sill, the writer of "The Fool's Prayer" (see the post for 6-25-2011.) 
This poem is non-rhyming, yet it is a rarity of its kind: it is one that I still find to be poetic; something that reaches past the eye and touches the heart.  I hope it inspires you as it has me.


This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:-
There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.

A craven hung along the battle's edge,
And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel-
That blue blade that the king's son bears,-but this
Blunt thing-!" he snapt and flung it from his hand,
And lowering crept away and left the field.

Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.

Edward Rowland Sill