| Wars of great kings and clash of armouries
|
| Whose swords no man could tell, whose spears
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| Were numerous as wheat field’s ears
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| Rolled over all the great lands, and seas
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| Were loud with navies, their devouring fires
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| Behind the armies burned both fields and towns
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| And sacked and crumbled or to flaming pyres
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| Were cities made, where treasuries and crowns
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| Kings and their folk, their wives and tender maids
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| Were all consumed. |
| Now silent are those courts
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| Ruined the towers, whose old shape slowly fades
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| And no feet pass beneath their broken ports
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| I need no call of clamant bell that rings
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| Iron tongued in the towers of earthly kings
|
| Take a ride on, ride on,
|
| on your rotting horse
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| on that deadly ground
|
| Take a ride, ride on,
|
| on your rotting horse
|
| with a pounding sound.
|
| Here on the stones and trees there lies a spell
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| Of unforgotten loss, of memories more blest
|
| than mortal wealth.
|
| Here undefeated dwell the fog immortal
|
| under withered elmes,
|
| Alalminore one in ancient realms |