Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/166

 Drunk with much honey—

Some distant knight's voice brings me pain,

I thought I had forgot to feel,

I never heard the blissful steel

These ten years past; year after year,

Through all my hopeless sojourn here,

No Christian pennon has been near;

Laus Deo! the dragging wind draws on

Over the marshes, battle won,

Knights' shouts, and axes hammering

Yea, quicker now the dint and ring

Of flying hoofs; ah! castellan,

When they come back count man for man,

Say whom you miss.

, from the battlements

Why flee ye so like men dismay'd?

, from without

Nay, haste! for here is Launcelot,

Who follows quick upon us, hot

And shouting with his men-at-arms.

Also the Pagans raise alarms.

And ring the bells for fear; at last

My prison walls will be well past.