 | New songs of innocence |  |
94
OUR CHAMPION.
The mist drops from his shoulders
Down on the kneeling lands,
And, clear to all beholders,
A snow-clad giant stands.
Upon his armour hoary
The wintry sunbeams glance
With the glamour and the glory
Of chivalrous romance.
Down on the kneeling lands,
And, clear to all beholders,
A snow-clad giant stands.
Upon his armour hoary
The wintry sunbeams glance
With the glamour and the glory
Of chivalrous romance.
Well, Willie, do you know him?
So cold and strangely gleam
Those winter rays, they show him
Like the mountain of a dream.
How many a summer morning
We watched for him in vain,
The moody giant—scorning
The people of the plain!
So cold and strangely gleam
Those winter rays, they show him
Like the mountain of a dream.
How many a summer morning
We watched for him in vain,
The moody giant—scorning
The people of the plain!
His robe of peace was green then,
His crest the soft winds kissed,
But, careless to be seen then,
He cloaked himself in mist.
And now, when blows defiant
The ice-blast of the North,
The stern, stout-hearted giant
To succour us comes forth!
His crest the soft winds kissed,
But, careless to be seen then,
He cloaked himself in mist.
And now, when blows defiant
The ice-blast of the North,
The stern, stout-hearted giant
To succour us comes forth!
| New songs of innocence | |