BOOK THE FIFTH.
165
Harsh sounded thro' the day a dismal din.
I never shall forget their mournful sound! 140
I never shall forget their mournful sound! 140
"My father stood encircling his old limbs
In long forgotten arms. "Come boys," he cried,
I did not think that this grey head again
Should bear the helmet's weight! but in the field
Better to boldly die a soldier's death, 145
Than here be tamely butcher'd. My dear girl,
Go to the Abbey. Here is gold to buy
The kind protection of the holy church.
Fare thee well Isabel! if we survive
And conquer, we shall meet again: if not, 150
There is a better world!"
"In broken words
Lifting his looks to Heav'n! my father breath'd
His blessing on me. As they strode away,
My brethren gazed on me and prest my hand
In silence, for they lov'd their Isabel. 155
From the near cottage Francis join'd the troop.
In long forgotten arms. "Come boys," he cried,
I did not think that this grey head again
Should bear the helmet's weight! but in the field
Better to boldly die a soldier's death, 145
Than here be tamely butcher'd. My dear girl,
Go to the Abbey. Here is gold to buy
The kind protection of the holy church.
Fare thee well Isabel! if we survive
And conquer, we shall meet again: if not, 150
There is a better world!"
"In broken words
Lifting his looks to Heav'n! my father breath'd
His blessing on me. As they strode away,
My brethren gazed on me and prest my hand
In silence, for they lov'd their Isabel. 155
From the near cottage Francis join'd the troop.
"Then
