I like her none the less for rating at her! Is woman's wisdom.' Thus the hard old king: I took my leave: it was the point of noon: To fifty, till the terrible trumpet blared At the barrier - yet a moment, and once more In the middle with the crash of shivering points, And out of stricken helmets sprang the fire. Part sat like rocks: part reel'd but kept their seats: The large blows rain'd, as here and everywhere With hammers; till I thought, can this be he The mother makes us most and thinking thus Like a Saint's glory up in heaven: but she Too hard, too cruel: yet she sees me fight, With stroke on stroke the horse and horseman, came Flaying off the roofs and sucking up the drains, And shadowing down the champain till it strikes On a wood, and takes, and breaks, and cracks, and splits, And twists the grain with such a roar that the Earth Reels and the herdsmen cry, for everything Gave way before him: only Florian, he That loved me closer than his own right eye, And threw him: last I spurred; I felt my veins Stretch with fierce heat; a moment hand to hand, And sword to sword, and horse to horse we hung, Till I struck out and shouted; the blade glanced; I did but shear a feather, and life and love Flow'd from me; darkness closed me; and I fell. VI. WHAT follow'd, tho' I saw not, yet I heard For when our side was vanquished and my cause For ever lost, there went up a great cry The Prince is slain. My father heard and ran In on the lists, and there unlaced my casque And grovell'd on my body, and after him But high upon the palace Ida stood With Psyche's babe in arm: there on the roofs 'Our enemies have fall'n, have fall'n the seed |