A crash like this, such dire alarms,
Might burst the slumbers of the dead.

Think where your dear companions lie--
Survey their fate, and hear their woes--
How some thro' trackless deserts fly,
Some in the vulture's maw repose;

While some more wretched still, must bear
The tauntings of a Christian's tongue--
Hear this--and blush ye not to wear
The silken robe of peace so long?

Remember what ensanguin'd showers
The Syrian plains with crimson dyed,
And think how many blooming flowers
In Syrian forts their beauties hide.

Arabian youths! In such a cause
Can ye the voice of glory slight?
Warriors of Persia! Can ye pause,
Or fear to mingle in the fight?

If neither piety nor shame
Your breasts can warm, your souls can move,
Let emulation's bursting flame
Wake you to vengeance and to love.

_Almodhafer Alabiwerdy_.