Page:Last Poems.djvu/76

 Months later, riding lonely through the gorge, I saw it still, among the long-grown grass.

It was well done; my soul is satisfied. Friendship is sweet, and Love is sweeter still, But Vengeance has a savour all its own— A strange delight—well known to those who kill.

Such was the story Afzul told to me, While wood-fires crackled in the evening breeze, And blows on hammered tent-pegs stirred the air Sweet with the fragrance from the Sinjib trees.

Tent-like, above, up-held by jagged peaks, The heavy purple of the tranquil sky Shed its oft-broken promises of peace, While twinkling stars bemocked the worn-out lie! 64