I was quickly down kneeling beside him, and feeling
With tremulous hand for the throb of his heart.
‘The mare—is she dead?’ were the first words he said,
As he suddenly opened his eyes with a start.
He spoke to the creature—his hand could just reach her—
Gently caressing her lean Arab head:
She acknowledged his praising with eyes quickly glazing . . .
A whinny . . . a struggle . . . and there she lay dead!
I sat there and nursed his head, for we durst
Not remove him: we knew where he fell he would die.
As I watched his life flicker, his breath growing thicker,
I'd have given the world to be able to cry.
Rough-voiced, sunburnt men, far away beyond ken
Of civilisation, our comrades, stood nigh—
All true-hearted mourners, and sadly forlorn as
He gave them a handshake and bade them good-bye.
In my loving embrace there he finished life's race,
And nobly and gamely that long course was run;
Though a man and a sinner he weighed out a winner,
And God, the Great Judge, will declare he has won.
