 | The poetical works of James Montgomery |  |
158
No. I. THE COMBAT.
Of old when fiery warriors met,
On edge of steel their lives were set;
Eye watching eye, shield crossing shield,
Foot wedged to foot, they fought the field,
Dealt and withstood as many strokes
As might have fell'd two forest-oaks,
Till one, between the harness-joint,
Felt the resistless weapon's point
Quick through his heart,—and in a flood
Pour'd his hot spirit with his blood.
On edge of steel their lives were set;
Eye watching eye, shield crossing shield,
Foot wedged to foot, they fought the field,
Dealt and withstood as many strokes
As might have fell'd two forest-oaks,
Till one, between the harness-joint,
Felt the resistless weapon's point
Quick through his heart,—and in a flood
Pour'd his hot spirit with his blood.
The victor, rising from the blow
That laid his brave assailant low,
Then blush'd not from his height to bend,
Foully a gallant deed to end;
But whirl'd in fetters round the plain,
Whirl'd at his chariot-wheels, the slain;
Beneath the silent curse of eyes
That look'd for vengeance to the skies;
While shame, that could not reach the dead,
Pour'd its whole vial on his head.
That laid his brave assailant low,
Then blush'd not from his height to bend,
Foully a gallant deed to end;
But whirl'd in fetters round the plain,
Whirl'd at his chariot-wheels, the slain;
Beneath the silent curse of eyes
That look'd for vengeance to the skies;
While shame, that could not reach the dead,
Pour'd its whole vial on his head.
Who falls in honourable strife,
Surrenders nothing but his life;
Who basely triumphs, casts away
The glory of the well-won day:
—Rather than feel the joy he feels,
Commend me to his chariot-wheels.
Surrenders nothing but his life;
Who basely triumphs, casts away
The glory of the well-won day:
—Rather than feel the joy he feels,
Commend me to his chariot-wheels.
| The poetical works of James Montgomery | |