Then he riseth, pale of blee,
As one spent, and utterly
Master'd of dark destiny.


II.

Comes a day for glory famed
Tidings brought the enemy shamed,
Fallen; now is peace proclaimed.
And a swarm of bells on high
Make their sweet din scale the sky,
'Hail! hail! hail!' the people cry
To the king his queen beside,
And the knights in armour ride
After until eventide.


III.

All things great may life afford,
Praise, power, love, high pomp, fair gaud,
Till the banquet be toward
Hath this king. Then day takes flight,
Sinketh sun and fadeth light,
Late he coucheth--Night; 't is night.

_The proud king heading the host on his red roan charger._
Dust. On a thicket of spears glares the Syrian sun,
The Saracens swarm to the onset, larger aye larger