74
THE AISLE OF TOMBS.
They have left their fame behind,
Still a spirit from their slumbers
Rises true and brave;
Asks the minstrel for his numbers,
Music from their grave:
Noble, gentle, valiant, kind,
Were the ancient warriors.
The warriors of olden time.
All their meaner part hath perished,
In the earth at rest;
And the present hour hath cherished
What of them was best.
What a knight should be we keep;
For the present doth inherit
All the glories of the past;
We retain what was its spirit,
While its dust to dust is cast,
All good angels guard the sleep
Of the ancient warriors,
The warriors of olden time.
