 | The poems (1969) |  |
II.
1
“Weave the warp and weave the woof,“The winding-sheet of Edward's race.
“Give ample room and verge enough
“The characters of hell to trace.
“Mark the year and mark the night,
“When Severn shall re-echo with affright
“The shrieks of death, through Berkeley's roofs that ring,
190
“She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs,
“That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate,
“From thee be born who o'er thy country hangs
“The scourge of heaven. What terrors round him wait!
“Amazement in his van, with Flight combined,
“And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind.
2
“Mighty victor, mighty lord,“Low on his funeral couch he lies!
“No pitying heart, no eye, afford
“A tear to grace his obsequies.
191
“Thy son is gone. He rests among the dead.
“The swarm that in thy noon-tide beam were born?
“Gone to salute the rising morn.
“Fair laughs the morn and soft the zephyr blows,
“While proudly riding o'er the azure realm
192
“Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm;
“Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,
“That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening-prey.
3
“Fill high the sparkling bowl,“The rich repast prepare,
193
“Close by the regal chair
“Fell Thirst and Famine scowl
“A baleful smile upon their baffled guest.
“Heard ye the din of battle bray,
“Lance to lance and horse to horse?
“Long years of havoc urge their destined course,
“And through the kindred squadrons mow their way.
194
“With many a foul and midnight murther fed,
“Revere his consort's faith, his father's fame,
“And spare the meek usurper's holy head.
“Above, below, the rose of snow,
“Twined with her blushing foe, we spread:
“The bristled Boar in infant-gore
“Wallows beneath the thorny shade.
“Now, brothers, bending o'er the accursed loom,
“Stamp we our vengeance deep and ratify his doom.
| The poems (1969) | |