THE Emperor mocked at Nazareth In his almighty hour. The Slave that bowed himself to death And walked with slaves in Nazareth, What were his words but wasted breath Before that "will to power"? Yet, in the darkest hour of all, When black defeat began, The Emperor heard the mountains quake, He felt the graves beneath him shake, He watched his legions rally and break, And he whimpered as they ran. "I hear a shout that moves the earth, A cry that wakes the dead! Will no one tell me whence they come, For all my messengers are dumb? What power is this that comes to birth And breaks my power?" he said. Then, all around his foundering guns, Though dawn was now not far, The darkness filled with a living fear That whispered at the Emperor's ear, "@3The armies of the dead draw near Beneath an eastern star." The trumpet blows in Nazareth. The Slave is risen again. Across the bitter wastes of death The horsemen ride from Nazareth, And the Power we mocked as wasted breath Returns, in power, to reign; Rides on, in white, through Nazareth, To save His world again.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON I DO NOT LOVE THEE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON MAY (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 12. TO SIR FRANCIS HENRY DRAKE, BARONET by MARK AKENSIDE THE WELFORD WEDDING by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST A BLACKBIRD SUDDENLY by JOSEPH AUSLANDER VENETIAN BLIND by HELEN DARBY BERNING |