51�Թ�

Trying to break one charm, he was but becharmed anew.

For a time becharmed there fell a lull     In the heart of the fight; The tree-tops nod, the slain sleep light;     Warm noon-winds sigh on, And thoughts which he never spake had Lyon.

Beyond the bar the land-wind dies,   The prows becharmed at anchor swim: A summer night; the stars withdrawn look down—     Fair eve of battle grim.