The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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| XXVII. | XXVII. WARDEN |
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 | The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
418
XXVII. WARDEN
Up, up, Lord Raymond, to the fight!
Gird on thy bow of yew!
And see thy javelin's point be brignt,
Thy falchion's temper true;
For over the hill and over the vale
My First is pouring its iron hail.
Gird on thy bow of yew!
And see thy javelin's point be brignt,
Thy falchion's temper true;
For over the hill and over the vale
My First is pouring its iron hail.
No craven he! yet beaten back
From the field of death he fled;
My Second yawned upon his track,
The lion's lonely bed;
He smote the Monarch in his lair,
And buried his rage and anguish there.
From the field of death he fled;
My Second yawned upon his track,
The lion's lonely bed;
He smote the Monarch in his lair,
And buried his rage and anguish there.
At dawn and dusk my Whole goes forth
On the ladder's topmost round;
He looks to the south, he looks to the north,
He bids the bugle sound;
But many a cheerless moon must wane,
Ere his exiled lord return again.
On the ladder's topmost round;
He looks to the south, he looks to the north,
He bids the bugle sound;
But many a cheerless moon must wane,
Ere his exiled lord return again.
| The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |