Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1830.pdf/5

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thy step in the stirrup, one cup of bright wine, We'll drink the success of thy sabre and mine: When as boys we took down the bright arms from the wall, And rushed, in mock combat, around the old hall, We longed in true warfare the weapons to wield:— Now the foe is before us, and yonder the field.

We'll onward together, thy steed beside mine, Our blow be as one when we rush on the line; Should one fall, one only, the other will try A step for his vengeance, another to die— On the neck of the fallen yield up his last breath, And the vow of their boyhood be cancelled by death.

But rather this evening as victors we'll ride O'er the field of our conquest, the place of our pride, With our names on each lip, but named only as one— ’Tis the glory of either what each may have done. Now on for the harvest that darkens yon plain, We come back in honour, or come not again.