The Assault Heroic

 Down in the mud I lay, 
Tired out by my long day 
Of five damned days and nights, 
Five sleepless days and nights,… 
Dream-snatched, and set me where
The dungeon of Despair 
Looms over Desolate Sea, 
Frowning and threatening me 
With aspect high and steep— 
A most malignant keep.

My foes that lay within 
Shouted and made a din, 
Hooted and grinned and cried: 
“Today we’ve killed your pride; 
Today your ardour ends
We’ve murdered all your friends; 
We’ve undermined by stealth 
Your happiness and your health.
 
We’ve taken away your hope; 
Now you may droop and mope
To misery and to Death.
” 
But with my spear of Faith, 
Stout as an oaken rafter, 
With my round shield of laughter, 
With my sharp, tongue-like sword
That speaks a bitter word, 
I stood beneath the wall 
And there defied them all.
 
The stones they cast I caught 
And alchemized with thought
Into such lumps of gold 
As dreaming misers hold.
 
The boiling oil they threw 
Fell in a shower of dew, 
Refreshing me; the spears
Flew harmless by my ears, 
Struck quivering in the sod; 
There, like the prophet’s rod, 
Put leaves out, took firm root, 
And bore me instant fruit.

My foes were all astounded, 
Dumbstricken and confounded, 
Gaping in a long row; 
They dared not thrust nor throw.
 
Thus, then, I climbed a steep
Buttress and won the keep, 
And laughed and proudly blew 
My horn, “Stand to! Stand to! 
Wake up, sir! Here’s a new 
Attack! Stand to! Stand to!”

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