Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SCHEIK OF SINAI IN 1830, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lift me without the tent, I say
Last Line: That which I thought to see.'
Alternate Author Name(s): Freiligrath, Hermann Ferdinand
Subject(s): Moors (people); Tents; War


I

"LIFT me without the tent, I say, --
Me and my ottoman, --
I'll see the messenger myself!
It is the caravan
From Africa, thou sayest,
And they bring us news of war?
Draw me without the tent, and quick!
As at the desert-well
The freshness of the bubbling stream
Delights the tired gazelle,
So pant I for the voice of him
That cometh from afar!'

II

The Scheik was lifted from his tent,
And thus outspake the Moor: --
'I saw, old Chief, the Tricolor
On Algiers' topmost tower --
Upon its battlements the silks
Of Lyons flutter free.
Each morning, in the market-place,
The muster-drum is beat.
And to the war-hymn of Marseilles
The squadrons pace the street.
The armament from Toulon sailed:
The Franks have crossed the sea.

III

'Towards the south the columns marched
Beneath a cloudless sky:
Their weapons glittered in the blaze
Of the sun of Barbary;
And with the dusty desert sand
Their horses' manes were white.
The wild marauding tribes dispersed
In terror of their lives;
They fled unto the mountains
With their children and their wives,
And urged the clumsy dromedary
Up the Atlas' height.

IV

'The Moors have ta'en their vantage-ground,
The volleys thunder fast --
The dark defile is blazing
Like a heated oven-blast.
The Lion hears the strange turmoil,
And leaves his mangled prey --
No place was that for him to feed --
And thick and loud the cries,
Feu! Allah! -- Allah! En avant!
In mingled discord rise:
The Franks have reached the summit;
They have won the victory!

V

'With bristling steel, upon the top
The victors take their stand;
Beneath their feet, with all its towns,
They see the promised land --
From Tunis, even unto Fez,
From Atlas to the seas.
The cavaliers alight to gaze;
And gaze full well they may,
Where countless minarets stand up
So solemnly and grey,
Amidst the dark-green masses
Of the flowering myrtle-trees.

VI

'The almond blossoms in the vale,
The aloe from the rock
Throws out its long and prickly leaves,
Nor dreads the tempest's shock:
A blessed land, I ween, is that,
Though luckless is its Bey.
"There lies the sea -- beyond lies France!
Her banners in the air
Float proudly and triumphantly --
A salvo! come, prepare!"
And loud and long the mountains rang
With that glad artillery.'

VII

''Tis they!' exclaimed the aged Scheik.
'I've battled by their side --
I fought beneath the Pyramids!
That day of deathless pride --
Red as thy turban, Moor, that eve,
Was every creek in Nile!
But tell me' -- and he griped his hand --
'Their Sultaun? Stranger, say, --
His form -- his face -- his gesture, man --
Thou saw'st him in the fray?
His eye -- what wore he?' But the Moor
Sought in his vest awhile.

VIII

'Their Sultaun, Scheik, remains at home
Within his palace walls;
He sends a Pasha in his stead
To brave the bolts and balls.
He was not there. An Aga burst
For him through Atlas' hold.
Yet I can show thee somewhat too;
A Frankish Cavalier
Told me his effigy was stamped
Upon this medal here --
He gave it me with others
For an Arab steed I sold.'

IX

The old man took the golden coin:
Gazed steadfastly awhile,
If that could be the Sultaun
Whom from the banks of Nile
He guided o'er the desert path? --
Then sighed and thus spake he --
''Tis not his eye -- 'tis not his brow --
Another face is there:
I never saw this man before --
His head is like a pear!
Take back thy medal, Moor -- 'tis not
That which I thought to see.'





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net