He was indeed pleased to be so challenged, and continued to sing:
And once atop of Lambourne Down, towards the hill of Clere,
I saw the host of Heaven in rank and Michael with his spear
And Turpin, out of Gascony, and Charlemagne the lord,
And Roland of the Marches with his hand upon his sword
For fear he should have need of it;—and forty more beside!
And I ride; and I ride!
For you that took the all in all…
"That again is weak," I murmured.
"You are quite right," he said gravely, "I will rub it out." Then he went on:
For you that took the all in all, the things you left were
three:
A loud Voice for singing, and keen Eyes to see,
And a spouting Well of Joy within that never yet was dried!
And I ride!
He sang this last in so fierce and so exultant a manner that I was impressed more than I cared to say, but not more than I cared to show. As for him, he cared little whether I was impressed or not; he was exalted and detached from the world.
There were no stirrups upon the beast. He vaulted upon it, and said as he did so:
"You have put me into the mood, and I must get away!"
And though the words were abrupt, he did speak them with such a grace that I will always remember them!
He then touched the flanks of his horse with his heels (on which there were no spurs) and at once beating the air powerfully twice or thrice with its wings it spurned the turf of Berkshire and made out southward and upward into the sunlit air, a pleasing and a glorious sight.