His lord rode by.
When evening fell, they brought him, wounded sore,
His battered shield with sword-thrusts gashed and rent,
And laid him where the king stood by his tent.
"Now art thou Beautiful," the master said,
And bared his head.
—Annie M. L. Hawes.
———
Great men grow greater by the lapse of time;
We know those least whom we have seen the latest;