LXIX

Like a tall forest were their spears,

Their banners like a silken sea,

When the great host in splendour passed

Across the crimson sinking sun.

And then the bray of brazen horns

Arose above their clanking march,

As the long waving column filed

Into the odorous purple dusk.

O lover, in this radiant world

Whence is the race of mortal men,

So frail, so mighty, and so fond,

That fleets into the vast unknown?