AND Ishmael crouched beside a crackling briar Blinded with sand, and maddened by his thirst, A derelict, though he know not why accursed. And lo! One saw, and strung the dissonant lyre, Made firm his bow unto the arrow's spire, And gave him dates and wine. Then at the first Flushings of dawn Ishmael arose, and burst To triumphing freedom, ran, and eased desire. His domain was the desert. None tamed him. None bought or sold his spirit, though his hand Dripped red against the dawn and sunset stain. Thrones melted, kingdoms passed to the world's rim. But Ishmael scourged the lion in Paran land, And kept his faith with God. And he will reign. - Herbert Edward Palmer
The actual Frazetta “Eowyn vs the Nazgul” pic is laughably pathetic. As is the original lineart, which I would heartily not recomend any one look up on the Frazettagirls.com website and then purchase.
The riders of Babylon clatter forth Like the hawk-winged scourgers of Azrael To the meadow-lands of the South and North And the strong-walled cities of Israel. They harry the men of the caravans, They bring rare plunder across the sands To deck the throne of the great god Baal. But Babylon's king is a broken shell And Babylon's queen is a sprite from Hell; And men shall say, "Here Babylon fell," Ere Time has forgot the tale. The riders of Babylon come and go From Gaza's halls to the shores of Tyre; They shake the world from the lands of snow To the deserts, red in the sunset's fire; Their horses swim in a sea of gore And the tribes of the earth bow down before; They have chained the seas where the Cretans sail. But Babylon's sun shall set in blood; Her towers shall sink in a crimson flood; And men shall say, "Here Babylon stood," Ere Time forgot the tale. - Robert E. Howard
Via the estimable DBreitenbeck.