Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/303

THE BLAMELESS PRINCE They bandied; yet the Prince, who felt the sting,

Bided his time. Till on the land there brake

A sudden warfare; for that haughty king,

Gathering a mighty armament to take

Revenge for his lost suit, with sword and flame

Against the borders on short pretext came.

Then with hot haste the Queen's whole forces poured

To meet him. With the call to horse and blade

The Prince, deep-chafed in spirit, placed his sword

At orders of the General, and prayed

A humble station, but, as due his rank,

Next in command was made, and led the flank.

And so with doubtful poise a fierce war raged,

Till on a day encountered face to face

The two chief hosts, and dreadful battle waged

To close the issue. In its opening space

Death smote the General, and in tumult sore

The line sank back; but swiftly, at the fore

Placing himself, the Prince right onward hurled

The strife once more, and with his battle-shout

Woke victory; again his forces whirled

The hostile troops, and drove them on in rout.

The strength of ten battalions seemed to yield

Before his arm; and so he won that field,

And slew with his own hand the vengeful king,

And with that death-stroke brought the war to end,

Conquering the common foe, and conquering

The hate, from which he would not else defend

His clear renown than with such manful deeds

As fall to faith and valor at their needs.

Again—this time the chaplet was his own—

The people wreathed their laurels for his brow; 273