But sturdy pikemen pierce th' embattled field, And bear to earth who bears th' opposing shield, The English bill, dread weapon, hews it way, While Norman hopes of conquest nearly end; O, stratagem! in war, as love, allow'd, Too oft thy keen-brain'd cunning foils the brave; Too oft his living laurels charm the crowd, Who vanquish'd, but for thee, had found a grave. While fortune, and while justice in the scale, While justice seems a moment to prevail, VOL. I. I The The foe before the English force retreat, Outwitted thus, the contest scarce endure. But HAROLD, HAROLD, now supremely great, Proudly superior to thy savage fate; Once, twice, and thrice, from rank to rank he flew, Once, twice, and thrice, his ranks the fight renew. Again he leads 'em with resistless rage, While hand to hand death threaten'd him in vain, The shaft accurs'd that pierc'd his royal brain Ill-fame Ill-fame betide the coward hand that drew The fatal string, and such an hero slew. Peace to their manes! cou'd th' unequal pen But justly celebrate the glorious men ; The Poet's lay a deathless fame shou'd raise, And deeds immortal meet immortal praise, * Gurth and Leofwin. END OF PART THE THIRD. 1 2 |