Death-Bed of Alexander the Great

On his bed the king was lying—
    On his purple bed;                                       *1
"Tell us not that he is dying;"
    So his soldiers said,
                    ⁠"He is yet too young to die.
Have ye drugged the cup ye gave him,        *2
    From the fatal spring?
Is it yet too late to save him?
    We will see our king!
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠Let his faithful ones draw nigh,
⁠                The silver-shielded warriors—
                    ⁠ ⁠The warriors of the world!"

Back they fling the fragrant portals
    Of the royal tent;                                         *3
Vainly to the stern immortals
    Sacrifice and vow were sent                      *4
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠Cold and pitiless are they!
Silent in their starry dwelling,
    Nothing do they heed
Of the tale that earth is telling,
    In her hour of need!
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠They have turned their face away,
⁠                ⁠Ye silver-shielded warriors,
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠Ye warriors of the world!

In that royal tent is weeping;
    Women's tears will flow;
There the queens their watch are keeping   *5
    With a separate woe.
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠One still wears her diadem—
One her long fair hair is rending,
    From its pearls unbound;                            *6
Tears from those soft eyes descending,
    Eyes that seek the ground.
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠But Roxana looks on them,
⁠⁠                The silver-shielded warriors,
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠The warriors of the world!

In the east the day was reddening,
    When the warriors pass'd;
In the west the night was deadening,
    As they looked their last;
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠As they looked their last on him—
He, their comrade—their commander—
    He, the earth's adored—
He, the godlike Alexander!
    Who can wield his sword?
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠As they went their eyes were dim,
⁠                ⁠The silver-shielded warriors,
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠The warriors of the world!

Slowly passed the sad procession
    By the purple bed;
Every soldier in succession
    Thro' that tent was led.
⁠All beheld their monarch's face—
Pale and beautiful—reclining,
    There the conqueror lay,
From his radiant eyes the shining
    Had not passed away.
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠There he watched them from his place—
⁠                His silver-shielded warriors,
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠His warriors of the world!

Still he was a king in seeming,
    For he wore his crown;
And his sunny hair was streaming
    His white forehead down.
⁠Glorious was that failing head!
Still his golden baldric bound him,
    Where his sword was hung;
Bright his arms were scattered round him,
    And his glance still clung
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠To the warriors by his bed—
⁠⁠                The silver-shielded warriors,
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠The warriors of the world!

Pale and motionless he rested,
    Like a statue white and cold,
With his royal state invested;
    For the purple and the gold
⁠In his latest hour he wore.
But the eye and breath are failing,
    And the mighty Soul has fled!                   *7
Lift ye up the loud bewailing,
    For a wide world mourns the Dead;
                    ⁠ ⁠⁠And they have a Chief no more—
⁠                ⁠The silver-shielded warriors,
⁠                    ⁠ ⁠The warriors of the world!
⁠
⁠*1 "While Alexander was on his death-bed, the soldiers," says Arrian, “became eager to see him; some to see him once more alive, others because it was reported that he was already dead, and a suspicion had arisen that his death was concealed by the chief officers of the guards, but the majority from sorrow and anxiety for their king; they, therefore, forced their way into his chamber, and the whole army passed in procession by the bed where he lay pale and speechless."
*2 Plutarch mentions that one of the popular reports was, that Alexander's death was occasioned by poison administered by Iollas, his cup-bearer. This poison, the water of a mountain-spring, was of so corrossive a nature as to destroy every substance but the mule's hoof in which it was brought.
*3 Phylarchus gives a splendid account of Alexander's magnificence. His tent contained a hundred couches, and was supported by eight columns of solid gold. Overhead was stretched cloth of gold, wrought with various devices, and expanded so as to cover the whole ceiling. Within, in a semicircle, stood five hundred Persians, bearing lances adorned with pomegranates; their dress was purple and orange. Next to these were drawn up a thousand archers, partly clothed in flame-coloured, and partly in scarlet dresses. Many of these wore azure-coloured scarfs. In front of these were arranged five hundred Macedonian Argyraspides, soldiers, so called from their silver shields. In the middle was the golden throne, on which Alexander sat and gave audience. The tent on the outside was encircled by elephants drawn up in order, and by a thousand Macedonians in their native dress. Beyond these were the Persian guard of ten thousand men, and the five hundred courtiers allowed to wear purple robes.
⁠*4 Alexander's death was preceded by many omens, which sacrifice vainly strove to avert.
*5 After the conqueror's death, Roxana allured her gentler rival into her power, and poisoned her. She was the beautiful daughter of a barbarian chief, made captive by Alexander, who was so struck with her charms, that he immediately married her. Statira was the child of Darius, and inherited the evil fortunes of her ill-fated race.
*6 Pearls were favourite ornaments with the Persian ladies, who often wore them wreathed in their hair.
⁠*7 The death of Alexander plunged all his vast empire into anarchy and slaughter. He was the soul that animated the mighty force that afterwards wasted its energies in petty warfare. The popular saying attributed to him might well be true, "That the survivors would celebrate his obsequies with bloody funeral games."