It pleases me, when the lances bold
Set men and armies flying;
And it pleases me, too, to hear around
The voice of the soldiers crying;
And joy is mine
When the castles strong, totter and crack;
And I see the foemen join,
On the moated floor all compass’d round
With the palisade and guarded mound.
Lances and swords, and stained helms,