64
“The tramp of destr’iers riseth with a noise as though some quake of earth rolled ’neath their tread:
- Heart-strings in bosoms flutter; gazing eyes are fixt in mingled sense of joy and dread:
- This, from his charger not dismounting flies;
- that groaneth falling with his falling steed;
- this hath his snow-white mail with vermeil dyed;
- that, with his helm-plume flogs his courser’s side.