"And is my praise nought worth for all my life undone?"





THE BURGHERS' BATTLE



Thick rise the spear-shafts o'er the land
That erst the harvest bore;
The sword is heavy in the hand,
_And we return no more_.
The light wind waves the Ruddy Fox,
Our banner of the war,
And ripples in the Running Ox,
_And we return no more_.
Across our stubble acres now
The teams go four and four;
But out-worn elders guide the plough,
_And we return no more_.
And now the women heavy-eyed
Turn through the open door
From gazing down the highway wide,
_Where we return no more_.
The shadows of the fruited close
Dapple the feast-hall floor;
There lie our dogs and dream and doze,
_And we return no more_.