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“ Pictur'd with the silver moon; “ England shall end thy glory soon! “ In vain, to break our firm array, “ Thy brazen drums hoarse discord bray: “ Those sounds our rising fury fan: “ English Richard in the van, “ On to victory we go, 6 A vaunting infidel the foe.”
Blondel led the tuneful band,
Soon we kiss'd the sacred earth
“ Lo, the toilsome voyage past, “ Heaven's favour'd hills appear at last! “ Object of our holy vow, “ We tread the Tyrian valleys now. “ From Carmel's almond-shaded steep “ We feel the cheering fragrance creep: “ O’er Engaddi's shrubs of balm “ Waves the date-empurpled palm. “ See Lebanon's aspiring head “ Wide his immortal umbrage spread! “ Hail, Calvary, thou mountain hoar, « Wet with our Redeemer's gore !
« Ye trampled tombs, ye fanes forlorn, “ Ye stones, by tears of pilgrims worn; “ Your ravish'd honours to restore, « Fearless we climb this hostile shore ! " And thou, the sepulchre of God! “ By mocking pagans rudely trod, “ Bereft of every awful rite, “ And quench'd thy lamps that beam'd so bright; “ For thee, from Britain's distant coast, “ Lo, Richard leads his faithful host! “ Aloft in his heroic hand, “ Blazing, like the beacon's brand, “ O'er the far-affrighted fields, “ Resistless Kaliburn he wields.. « Proud Saracen, pollute no more 66 The shrines by martyrs built of yore! “ From each wild mountain's trackless crown “ In vain thy gloomy castles frown: “ Thy battering engines, huge and high, “ In vain our steel-clad steeds defy; “ And, rolling in terrific state, “ On giant-wheels harsh thunders grate. “ When eve has hush'd the buzzing camp, “ Amid the moonlight vapours damp, 66 Thy necromantic forms, in vain, “ Haunt us on the tented plain : 66 We bid those spectre-shapes avaunt, “ Ashtaroth, and Termagaunt! “ With many a demon, pale of hue, “ Doom'd to drink the bitter dew
“ That drops from Macon's sooty tree,
“ Salem, in ancient majesty “ Arise, and lift thee to the sky! . “ Soon on thy battlements divine “ Shall wave the badge of Constantine. “ Ye Barons, to the sun unfold “ Our Cross with crimson wove and gold !"
THE GRAVE OF KING ARTHUR.
STATELY the feast, and high the cheer:
Illumining the vaulted roof,
The storied tapestry was hung:
“ O'er Cornwall's cliffs the tempest roar'd, “ High the screaming sea-mew soar'd; “ On Tintaggel's topmost tower “ Darksome fell the sleety shower; “ Round the rough castle shrilly sung “ The whirling blast, and wildly flung « On each tall rampart's thundering side “ The surges of the tumbling tide : “ When Arthur rang'd his red-cross ranks “ On conscious Camlan's crimson'd banks : “ By Mordred's faithless guile decreed “ Beneath a Saxon spear to bleed! “ Yet in vain a paynim foe “ Arm'd with fate the mighty blow;
“ For when he fell, an elfin queen, “ All in secret, and unseen, “ O'er the fainting hero threw “ Her mantle of ambrosial blue; “ And bade her spirits bear him far, “ In Merlin's agate-axled car, “ To her green isle’s enamell’d steep, “ Far in the navel of the deep. “ O'er his wounds she sprinkled dew “ From flowers that in Arabia grew : « On a rich inchanted bed “ She pillow'd his majestic head; “ O'er his brow, with whispers bland, “ Thrice she wav'd an opiate wand; “ And to soft music's airy sound, “ Her magic curtains clos'd around. “ There, renew'd the vital spring, “ Again he reigns a mighty king; “ And many a fair and fragrant clime, “ Blooming in immortal prime, “ By gales of Eden ever fann'd, “ Owns the monarch's high command: “ Thence to Britain shall return, “ (If right prophetic rolls I learn) “ Borne on victory’s spreading plume, “ His ancient sceptre to resume ; “ Once more, in old heroie pride, “ His barbed courser to bestride ;. “ His knightly table to restore, “ And brave the tournaments of yore."