"There shall thine eye, with wild amaze, "On his gigantic stature gaze; "There shalt thou find the monarch laid, "All in warrior-weeds array'd; "Wearing in death his helmet-crown, “And weapons huge of old renown. "Martial prince, 'tis thine to save "From dark oblivion Arthur's grave! "So may thy ships securely stem "The western frith: thy diadem "Shine victorious in the van, "Nor heed the slings of Ulster's clan : The spiced goblets mantled high; Rough with the gore of Pictish kings: Ev'n now, with arching sculpture crown'd, ODE VIII. THE CRUSADE. By the Same. BOUND for holy Palestine, O'er the wave our weapons play'd, "From distant towers, with anxious eye, "From Sion's turrets as afar "Ye ken the march of Europe's war! "Saladin, thou paynim king "From Albion's isle revenge we bring! "On Acon's spiry citadel, "Though to the gale thy banners swell, "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, "A vaunting infidel the foe." And swept the wire with glowing hand. Echoed the prophetic strain. Soon we kiss'd the sacred earth That gave a murther'd Saviour birth: Thus the solemn song renew'd: "Lo, the toilsome voyage past, "Heaven's favour'd hills appear at last! "Object of our holy vow, "We tread the Tyrian vallies 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 Cavalry, thou mountain hoar, "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 "The shrines by martyrs built of yore! "From each wild mountain's trackless crown "In vain the gloomy castles frown: "Thy battering engines, huge and high, "In vain our steel-clad steeds defy; "On giant-wheels harsh thunders grate. |