For they return’d no more!
They that went forth at morn, with reckless heart,
In that fierce banquet’s mirth to bear their part:
And on the rushy floor,
And the bright spears and bucklers of the walls,
The high wood-fires were blazing in their halls;
But not for them—they slept—their feast was o’er!
Fear ye the festal hour!
Ay, tremble when the cup of joy o’erflows!
Tame down the swelling heart! The bridal rose,