The cataract and the tumult and the kings Were shadows; and the long fantastic night With all its doings had and had not been, And all things were and were not. This went by As strangely as it came, and on my spirits Not long; I shook it off; for spite of doubts To whom the touch of all mischance but came As night to him that sitting on a hill Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun Set into sunrise; then we moved away. Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums, Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands: So Lilia sang: we thought her half-possess'd, She struck such warbling fury thro' the words; And, after, feigning pique at what she call'd The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime- The music-clapt her hands and cried for war, Or some grand fight to kill and make an end: And he that next inherited the tale Half turning to the broken statue, said, Sir Ralph has got your colours: if I prove Your knight, and fight your battle, what for me?' It chanced, her empty glove upon the tomb Lay by her like a model of her hand. She took it and she flung it. 'Fight' she said, And make us all we would be, great and good.' He knightlike in his cap instead of casque, A cap of Tyrol borrow'd from the hall, Arranged the favour, and assumed the Prince. V. Now, scarce three paces measured from the mound, 'The second two: they wait,' he said, 'pass on; His Highness wakes:' and one, that clash'd in arms, By glimmering lanes and walls of canvas, led Threading the soldier-city, till we heard The drowsy folds of our great ensign shake Entering, the sudden light Dazed me half-blind: I stood and seem'd to hear, As in a poplar grove when a light wind wakes A lisping of the innumerous leaf and dies, On all sides, clamouring etiquette to death. Unmeasured mirth; while now the two old kings The fresh young captains flash'd their glittering teeth, The huge bush-bearded Barons heaved and blew, And slain with laughter roll'd the gilded Squire. At length my Sire, his rough cheek wet with tears, Panted from weary sides King, you are free! We did but keep you surety for our son, If this be he, or a draggled mawkin, thou, As boys that slink |