Then Warwick Castle wide its gate display’d,
And peace and pleasure this their dwelling made.
Alas! not long—a hero knows not rest;
A new sensation fill’d his anxious breast.
His fancy brought before his eyes a train
Of pensive shades, the ghosts of mortals slain;
His dreams presented what his sword had done;
He saw the blood from wounded soldiers run,
And dying men, with every ghastly wound, 60
Breathed forth their souls upon the sanguine ground.