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  • THE KNIGHT came home from the quest,
        Muddied and sore he came.
    Battered of shield and crest,
        Bannerless, bruised and lame.
        Fighting we take no shame,
        Better is man for a fall.
    Merrily borne, the bugle-horn
        Answered the warder’s call:—
    “Here is my lance to mend (Haro!),
        Here is my horse to be shot!
    Ay, they were strong, and the fight was long;
        But I paid as good as I got!”

    “Oh, dark and deep their van,
        That mocked my battle-cry.
    I could not miss my man,
        But I could not carry by:
        Utterly whelmed was I,
        Flung under, horse and all.”
    Merrily borne, the bugle-horn
        Answered the warder’s call!

    “My wounds are noised abroad;
        But theirs my foemen cloaked.
    Ye see my broken sword—
        But never the blades she broke;
        Paying them stroke for stroke,
        Good handsel over all.”
    Merrily borne, the bugle-horn
        Answered the warder’s call!

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