357
With a heavy cheer they upraised his bier,
Naker and drum did roll;
The trumpets blew a last adieu
To the good knight's martial soul.
With measured tread thro' the aisle they sped,
Bearing the dead knight on,
And before the shrine of St James the divine,
They covered his corpse with stone:
'Twas fearful to see the strong agony
Of men who had seldom wept,
And to hear the deep groan of each mail-clad one,
As the lid on the coffin swept.
With many a groan, they placed that stone
O'er the heart of the good and brave,
And many a look the tall knights took
Of their brother soldier's grave.
Where banners stream and corslets gleam
In fields besprent with gore,
That brother's hand and shearing brand
In the van should wave no more:
The clarions call on one and all
To arm and fight amain,
Would never see, in chivalry,
Their brother's make again!
