But scarce for his own heart the aspirant heard.
VII.
And armed, all save the head,
He kneeled before his master gray and good.
Like some tall, noble, ancient ship he stood,
That once swept o’er the tide
With banners, and freight of heroes helmeted
For worthy war, and music breathing pride.
Now, the walled cities won,
And storms withstood, and all her story spun,