Wine

By Robert James DeBurgh (Poet)

At dinner in the evening, with the sunset o'er the palms,
We drink the Wine of Cyprus, Mahmoud expresses qualms
About true Muslims drinking wine, especially the Prince,
But if we can get him drunk enough, perhaps we'll sell him Arms.

With arms we'll fight a Holy War, a "Jihad" he has said,
And make the valley ring with cries, and make the sand blood-red,
"They'll feel my horse's hot breath, close enough to make them wince,
Then their Heathen rotten bodies to the Jackals shall be fed!"

"But you'll need guns, Oh Princely one, and bullets too no doubt,
If the armies of your Enemies you wish to Quash and Rout!"
The Prince he lift his drunken eyes, he says "Do I evince
An offer from you Gentlemen to re-enforce my clout?"

"We only want your Highness to have his heart's desire,
To see Moustafa's woolen tents light up the sky with fire."
"You're very right" he, smiling said, as he bit into a quince,
When I get the Guns, Moustafa's neck will feel my Dreadful Ire!"

Addis Abbaba 1890

NOTES ON PROVENANCE:
This Work was found during a clean out of the Royal Armoury on the Rock of Gibraltar in 1925. It was written on a scrap of paper very similar to the type used to wrap Small Arms in as they were packed into crates in the factories.
Does this shed light onto a more Sinister aspect of DeBurgh's life? That of a gun-runner? Does this Work lend credence to the theory that DeBurgh was in the Employ of the Foreign Office, fomenting unrest in order to further Imperial interests? Or was he merely relating an overheard Anecdote of some bar-room acquaintance?
We may never know.....