IV.

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,[mm] And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.[mn]

And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:[mo] And the tents were all silent--the banners alone-- The lances unlifted--the trumpet unblown.