II.
And the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west,
Toll slowly.
And but little thought was theirs of the silent antique years,
In the building of their nest.
III.
Down the sun dropt large and red on the towers of Linteged,—
Toll slowly.
Lance and spear upon the height, bristling strange in fiery light,
While the castle stood in shade.
IV.
There the castle stood up black with the red sun at its back—
Toll slowly—
Like a sullen smouldering pyre with a top that flickers fire
When the wind is on its track.
V.
And five hundred archers tall did besiege the castle wall—
Toll slowly.
And the castle, seethed in blood, fourteen days and nights had stood
And to-night was near its fall.
VI.
Yet thereunto, blind to doom, three months since, a bride did come—
Toll slowly.
One who proudly trod the floors and softly whispered in the doors,
"May good angels bless our home."