47
"No change is here, all things remain
As they were years ago;
With selfsame voice the old woods playne,
When shrilly winds do blow—
Still murmuring to itself, the stream
Rolls o'er its rocky bed—
Still smiling in its quiet dream,
The small flower nods its head;
And I stand here," the War-worn said,
"Like Nature's heart, unaltered."
Now, Flesh and Blood, that sits by me
On this bare ledge of stone,
So sat that Childe of chivalrie,
One summer eve alone.
I saw him, and methought he seemed
Like to the Bearded Form
That sat before the sun, and gleamed
Defiance to the storm;
I saw him in his war-weed sit,
And other Two before him flit.
Yes, in the shadow of that tree,
And motionless as stone,
