The Sleepers
The Sleepers sleep beneath the Mound,
And wait, in holy Slumber bound.
When will those Knights of Arthur’s ken
Ride forth to free the land, again?
When fire and sword, injustice rule
And plots hatched by magicians cruel
Oppress with plague, injustice, riot
And violate the humble quiet
With cries of bitter calm run out
And fire and blood pour through the spout?
The Sleepers sleep beneath the Mound,
O! Let the brazen Trumpet sound
And wake those Knights of Guiniver’s ken
To ride and free the land again!
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