Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1833.pdf/4

Rh

HE times are peaceful, and we know No unsheathed sword, no bended bow; No more upon the quiet night Flashes the beacon’s sudden light, No more the vassals in the hall Start at the trumpet’s fiery call; And undisturbed the ivy wreath Hangs o'er the battlements beneath. Years have gone by since English hand Spilt English blood on English land. —We see the armed warriors ride, But only in their plumed pride,