"I would fain be hard upon this superstition, but shame prevents. When in Nottingham, eggs may not be carried out after sunset; when Ireland hears Ba… - Richard Francis Burton

Mombasah-city, with her brave array
of sumptuous palace, proudest edifice,
defaced, deformed by fire and steel shall pay
in kind the tale of byegone malefice.
Thence on those Indian shores which proud display
their hostile fleets, and warlike artifice
'gainst the Lusians, with his sail and oar
shall young Lourenço work th' extremes of war.

What mighty vessels Sam'orim's orders own
covering Ocean, with his iron hail
poured from hot copper-tube in thunder-tone
all shall he shatter, rudder, mast and sail;
then with his grapples boldly, deftly thrown,
the hostile Ammiral he shall assail,
board her, and only with the lance and sword
shall slay four hecatombs of Moors abhor'd.

But God's prevision 'scaping human sight,
alone who knows what good best serves His end,
shall place the Hero where ne toil ne might
his lost young life availeth to forfend.
In Cháúl-bay, where fierce and furious fight
with fire and steel shall fervid seas offend,
th' Infidel so shall deal that end his days
where Egypt's navy doth conjoin Cambay's.

There shall the pow'er of man'ifold enemies, — for only stronger force strong force can tire, — and Winds defaulting and fierce injuries
of Ocean, 'gainst a single life conspire :
Here let all olden men from death arise
to see his Valour, catch his noble fire :
A second Scæva see who, hackt and torn,
laughs at surrender, quarter holds in scorn.

With the fierce torture of a mangled thigh,
torn off by bullet which at random past,
his stalwart arms he ceaseth not to ply,
that fiery Spirit flaming to the last :
Until another ball clean cuts the tie
so frail that linkèd Soul and Body fast ; — the Soul which loosed from her prison fleets
whither the prize eterne such Conqueror greets.

Go, Soul! to Peace from Warfare turbulent
wherein thou meritedst sweet Peace serene !
for those torn tortured limbs, that life so rent
who gave thee life prepareth vengeance keen :
I hear een now the furious storm ferment,
threating the terrible eternal teen,
of Chamber, Basi

There is no Heav'en, there is no Hell; these be the dreams of baby minds,
Tools of the wily Fetisheer, to 'fright the fools his cunning blinds.
Learn from the mighty Spi'rits of old to set thy foot on Heav'en and Hell;
In Life to find thy hell and heav'en as thou abuse or use it well.

"Fools rush where Angels fear to tread!" Angels and Fools have equal claim
To do what Nature bids them do, sans hope of praise, sans fear of blame!