| |
| DOWN in the mud I lay, | |
| Tired out by my long day | |
| Of five damned days and nights, | |
| Five sleepless days and nights,… | |
| Dream-snatched, and set me where | 5 |
| The dungeon of Despair | |
| Looms over Desolate Sea, | |
| Frowning and threatening me | |
| With aspect high and steep— | |
| A most malignant keep. | 10 |
| My foes that lay within | |
| Shouted and made a din, | |
| Hooted and grinned and cried: | |
| “Today we’ve killed your pride; | |
| Today your ardour ends. | 15 |
| We’ve murdered all your friends; | |
| We’ve undermined by stealth | |
| Your happiness and your health. | |
| We’ve taken away your hope; | |
| Now you may droop and mope | 20 |
| To misery and to Death.” | |
| But with my spear of Faith, | |
| Stout as an oaken rafter, | |
| With my round shield of laughter, | |
| With my sharp, tongue-like sword | 25 |
| That speaks a bitter word, | |
| I stood beneath the wall | |
| And there defied them all. | |
| The stones they cast I caught | |
| And alchemized with thought | 30 |
| Into such lumps of gold | |
| As dreaming misers hold. | |
| The boiling oil they threw | |
| Fell in a shower of dew, | |
| Refreshing me; the spears | 35 |
| Flew harmless by my ears, | |
| Struck quivering in the sod; | |
| There, like the prophet’s rod, | |
| Put leaves out, took firm root, | |
| And bore me instant fruit. | 40 |
| My foes were all astounded, | |
| Dumbstricken and confounded, | |
| Gaping in a long row; | |
| They dared not thrust nor throw. | |
| Thus, then, I climbed a steep | 45 |
| Buttress and won the keep, | |
| And laughed and proudly blew | |
| My horn, “Stand to! Stand to! | |
| Wake up, sir! Here’s a new | |
| Attack! Stand to! Stand to!” | 50 |
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