C ÆSAR , that proud man,
Sat in his tent
Weary with victory,
With striving spent.

Where the gray Chilterns
Coiled and slept
That hard-lipped Emperor
Vigil kept.

In the thin starlight
His glimmering hordes
Fought with the hard earth—
Spades for swords.

Out on the hill-slopes
His helmèd host
Piled stark ramparts
Rimmed with frost.

But Cæsar cared not
For dyke and wall,
Faint and remote
Came the bugles' call;

Soft in the shadows
He saw, and heard,
A Roman garden,
A Roman bird.

“Worlds to conquer!—
But Cæsar fails
To add one song
To the nightingale's!”

Soft in the shadows
The tired man heard
A woman's laughter,
A woman's word.
…

Cæsar, shivering,
Heard repeat
Spades on the hillside,
Sentries' feet.