142
SONGS OF EXILE
And facing, warriors, each his peer.
The King and Queen o'er two paces range;
Yet are their movements diverse and strange
Three steps the Elephants, never more;
The Horses turn to their quarters four;
And straight the Chariots forward fly,
Sideways and backward the foe defy.
In craft each warrior's bow is bent:
Vanquished by science, the foe is spent.
In ancient lore are their ways oft told:
Behold them writ in the books of old.
