Pub. CW, XXIV, 74.

Draft in Fitz. MS 1.

CW, XXIV

[74] WE HAVE DONE ALL THAT MEN COULD DO
What can our curses now avail,
We lying here unarmed and bound,
If prayers were nought to turn the scale
When swords were whole and mail was sound?
Ye shall grow great: your old defeat
Shall be but part of your renown—
O brave, so many a loss to meet
And still to rise when smitten down!

Our battles and our lives are past.
We have done all that men could do
But lie here in the dust at last,
For ye were many, we were few,
Fear nothing then but strike the blow;
Be merry now from day to day—
Your enemies are lying low,
Fear not the Gods so far away.