And lands, by worthier lords possest,
For his base succour gave.

Now years, since that eventful hour,
In which his courser bled,
Had pour'd increase of wealth, and pow'r
On his aspiring head.

As near, with much enlarged estate,
To his domain he drew;
He chanc'd, before his castle gate,
A signal scene to view.

The scene his war-steel'd nerves could shock,
Seated on mossy stones
The widow, leaning 'gainst a rock,
Wept o'er his horse's bones.

Enrag'd from his new steed he vaults,
Quick with his foot to spurn
These bones, that bid his bloody faults
To his base mind return.

The head, now bleach'd, his proud foot strikes
With such indignant speed,
The bone its fierce aggressor spikes;
It is his turn to bleed.

The trivial wound the wrathful knight
Disdains to search with care.