He bade the river bear the name of Joy.
So thought the Goths; they said no prayer for him,
For him no service sung, nor mourning made,
But charged their crimes upon his head, and curs’d
His memory.
Bravely in that eight-days fight
The King had striven, ... for victory first, while hope
Remain’d, then desperately in search of death.
The arrows pass’d him by to right and left,
The spear-point pierced him not, the scymitar