The bridal of Vaumond A Metrical Romance |
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The bridal of Vaumond | ||
XVI.
As the black billow on the rockSpreads o'er the deep its scatter'd flock,
Was the press in severing masses thrown;
And lo! a snorting steed
All riderless came bounding on—
And now the warrior's wish was won,
To aid him at his need.
One grasp arrests the charger's flight,
One vault, and mounted now the knight
Plung'd headlong in the burning fight;
His hot soul kindling at the sight
Outstripp'd the flying steed.
The bridal of Vaumond | ||