Our Poullains first began to whine; the fainthearts said the fault was mine. Saint Bernard was the oracle of Europe, I of Palestine. And nothing came ... no troops.... The Greek misled, starved, poisoned, murdered them, Betrayed them to the Turk, whose bleak deserts went over them. Week by week We waited. Nothing. Cadmus saw them cut to bits, Attalia's maw Could not be sated with their ruck. King Louis' mind had just one flaw: He would not hear of strategy, staked all on supernatural help. And nothing came, and nothing came. Our half-bred curs began to yelp "Good God, if truly God is good!" They kissed the Cross. Gems hid the wood. Had He forgotten? Was He deaf? Could such things be? Who understood? Not I, though I had kept my word to save the Lamb by fire and sword. And after twelve long lustra spent in service this was my reward. Louis and Conrad struggled through one day with some small retinue. I watched. Almost I could foretell what they and Providence would do. And I remember, as we fared, a Sufi--so the sect is named-- Sat by the road as though he cared no jot for us, while he declaimed: _Her home is in the heart of spaciousness, In the mid-city of ideals. The site Is harmony, the walls are made of light. There with the mother-thoughts she stands to bless The godlike sons sent forth with her caress To make new worlds. I see them all unite Into the whole that our most starry flight Of worship knew far off, and strove to express. What can we do for her? We run to ask As restless children for a grown-up task, While wisdom in the porch, their kind old host, Smiles at nurse nature, and replies: The most, The least that we can do for Beauty is To love for love's sake and serve God for His._ But Conrad drove his lance in jest right through the ragamuffin's chest, Because his creed was not as ours; and on we rode. I lost my zest. To take Damascus was our plan, relying on a talisman. I knew that this would not suffice, for I was still a fighting man. It ended in repulse and shame. Saint Bernard proved we were to blame For want of faith. Ah, some of us had had too much. We said the same