Page:The tale of Balen (IA taleofbalen00swin).pdf/130

 'Be it life or death, my chance I take, Be it life's to build or death's to break: And fall what may, me lists not make Moan for sad life's or death's sad sake.' Then looked he on his armour, glad And high of heart, and found it strong: And all his soul became a song And soared in prayer that soared not long, For all the hope it had. Then saw he whence against him came A steed whose trappings shone like flame, And he that rode him showed the same Fierce colour, bright as fire or fame, But dark the visors were as night That hid from Balen Balan's face, And his from Balan: God's own grace Forsook them for a shadowy space Where darkness cast out light.