XXIX.

But a lance met me in that day’s career-- Senseless I lay amidst the o’ersweeping fight; Wakening at last, how full, how strangely clear, That scene on memory flash’d!--the shivery light, Moonlight, on broken shields--the plain of slaughter, The fountain-side, the low sweet sound of water-- And Alvar bending o’er me--from the night Covering me with his mantle. All the past Flow’d back; my soul’s far chords all answer’d to the blast.