And over his head was the grey mail done.
When over the new-shorn place of the field
Was nought but the steel hood and the shield.
The face on the mound shone ruddy and hale,
But the hoar hair showed from the hoary mail.
And there rose a hand by the ruddy face
And shook a sword o'er the peopled place.
And there came a voice from the mound and said:
"O sons, the days of my youth are dead,
And gone are the faces I have known