And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel--
That blue blade that the king's son bears,--but this
Blunt thing--!" he snapt and flung it from his hand,
And lowering crept away and left the field.
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.



HELPS TO STUDY.

Biographical: Edward Rowland Sill was born in Connecticut in 1841. He
graduated at Yale and lived most of his life in California, being for some
years professor of English language and literature at the State University.
Sill was a true poet, but the whole of his literary output is contained in
two slender volumes. His poems are noted for their compressed thought. The
selection here given shows this quality.


Notes and Questions.

What do you learn from this poem?

Where was the craven when he decided his sword was useless?

What word shows that he was there of his own choice?