 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
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IX.
Then Turpin dropt the torch, that flamed upon the ground,
But drinking blood and dew, died out with drizzlie sound;
He groped for Roland's heart, and felt it faintly beat,
And, feeling on the earth, he found the wine-flask sweet,
And fainting with the toil, slaked not his own great drouth,
But, shivering, held the flask to Roland's gentle mouth:
E'en then, his Soul shot up, and in its shirt of steel
The Corse sank back, with crash like ice that cracks beneath the heel!
 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
|