Mano a poetical history of the time of the close of the tenth century concerning the adventures of a Norman knight which fell part in Normandy part in Italy. In four books. By Richard Watson Dixon |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. | XIII.— OF THE WAR. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | Mano |  |
XIII.— OF THE WAR.
Till summer's drought had laid the streams all low,Shrunken beneath their channel stones that lay,
Their white beds vainly thirsting for the flow
Which washed them in the spring with foaming play,
Clothing with water what they stripped to the bone
Of earth, and now uncovered did betray,
Lurking beneath their strewage, scarcely shown,
Like bodies deep in graves, whose bones remain,
And which survive in skeletons alone:
Till bitter winter came with clouds and rain,
Spreading his grim wing o'er the faint-laid earth,
And filled again with life each secret vein
That suffered drouth lest man should suffer dearth,
And with pure blood fed summer at the root:—
Till time's great march had so far issued forth,
The Normans held the forest-hidden foot
Of ancient Apennine, whence sulphurous Nar
Westward his white and furious stream doth shoot.
They in fierce battles drove their foemen far
Along the Apulian lands, across those streams
Which meet the Adrian waves with ceaseless war.
Thurold and Mano shone with equal beams,
And in those wintry battles sowed the corn
Of plenteous peace in summer's golden gleams.
Ah, but the wretched soil, which should have borne
That blessed harvest, by the heavy rain
111
Too thin the soil such harrowing to sustain.
But for a time was respite: and the foe
Most part in Bari did himself contain,
Warned from the field by constant overthrow.
But all that war in other histories
Is written, where its fame all men may know;
Wherefore I leave it now: for mine it is
To follow Mano to his destined end,
More than of storied glory that was his
In a redoubled roll to comprehend.
| Mano | |