On Tintagel’s topmast tow’r,
Darksome fell the sleety show’r,
Round the rough Castle shrilly sung
The whistling blast, and wildly flung
On each tall rampart’s thund’ring side
The surges of the trembling tide.
When Arthur rang’d his red-cross ranks,
On conscious Camban’s crimson banks,
By Mordred’s faithless guide decreed,
Beneath a Saxon spear to bleed!