 | The battle of Niagara |  |
His faded plumes, and vestment torn,
Were less like those by minstrels worn,
Than like the garb of youthful knight:
Caparisoned for glorious fight;
Equipped beneath his lady's eye
To couch his lance for chivalry:—
To charge in tournament or strife—
For wreath or scarf—for death, or life—
And once, 'twas said, his full, black eye,
When a young war-horse bounded by—
Awoke at once!—and lightnings keen,
As on the falchion's point are seen—
When sudden dawn amid the fight,
Flashed forth!—then vanished from the sight,
And darkened into tears!
And dimly o'er his brow, there past
A shade of memory—'twas the last—
And first for many years.
Were less like those by minstrels worn,
Than like the garb of youthful knight:
Caparisoned for glorious fight;
Equipped beneath his lady's eye
To couch his lance for chivalry:—
To charge in tournament or strife—
For wreath or scarf—for death, or life—
And once, 'twas said, his full, black eye,
When a young war-horse bounded by—
189
As on the falchion's point are seen—
When sudden dawn amid the fight,
Flashed forth!—then vanished from the sight,
And darkened into tears!
And dimly o'er his brow, there past
A shade of memory—'twas the last—
And first for many years.
| The battle of Niagara | |