"

CCII

As he sees the doom of the heathen host,
Slain are some and drowned the most,
(Great spoil have won the Christian knights),
The gentle king from his steed alights,
And kneels, his thanks unto God to pour:
The sun had set as he rose once more.
"It is time to rest," the Emperor cried,
"And to Roncesvalles 'twere late to ride.
Our steeds are weary and spent with pain;
Strip them of saddle and bridle-rein,
Free let them browse on the verdant mead."
"Sire," say the Franks, "it were well indeed."

CCIII

The Emperor hath his quarters ta'en,
And the Franks alight in the vacant plain;
The saddles from their steeds they strip,
And the bridle-reins from their heads they slip;
They set them free on the green grass fair,
Nor can they render them other care.
On the ground the weary warriors slept;
Watch nor vigil that night they kept.

CCIV

In the mead the Emperor made his bed,
With his mighty spear beside his head,
Nor will he doff his arms to-night,
But lies in his broidered hauberk white.
Laced is his helm, with gold inlaid,
Girt on Joyeuse, the peerless blade,
Which changes thirty times a day
The brightness of its varying ray.
Nor may the lance unspoken be
Which pierced our Saviour on the tree;
Karl hath its point--so God him graced--
Within his golden hilt enchased.
And for this honor and boon of heaven,
The name Joyeuse to the sword was given;
The Franks may hold it in memory.
Thence came "_Montjoie_," their battle-cry,
And thence no race with them may vie.

CCV

Clear was the night, and the fair moon shone.
But grief weighed heavy King Karl upon;
He thought of Roland and Olivier,
Of his Franks and every gallant peer,
Whom he left to perish in Roncesvale,
Nor can he stint but to weep and wail,
Imploring God their souls to bless,--
Till, overcome with long distress,
He slumbers at last for heaviness.
The Franks are sleeping throughout the meads;
Nor rest on foot can the weary steeds--
They crop the herb as they stretch them prone.--
Much hath he learned who hath sorrow known.

CCVI

The Emperor slumbered like man forespent,
While God his angel Gabriel sent
The couch of Carlemaine to guard.