The Assault Heroic

Down in the mud I lay,     Tired out by my long day     Of five damned days and nights,     Five sleepless days and nights, ...     Dream-snatched, and set me where     The dungeon of Despair     Looms over Desolate Sea,     Frowning and threatening me     With aspect high and steep,     A most malignant keep.     My foes that lay within     Shouted and made a din,     Hooted and grinned and cried:     "Today we've killed your pride;     Today your ardour ends.     We've murdered all your friends;     We've undermined by stealth     Your happiness and your health.     We've taken away your hope;     Now you may droop and mope     To misery and to Death."     But with my spear of Faith,     Stout as an oaken rafter,     With my round shield of laughter,     With my sharp, tongue-like sword     That speaks a bitter word,     I stood beneath the wall     And there defied them all.     The stones they cast I caught     And alchemized with thought     Into such lumps of gold     As dreaming misers hold.     The boiling oil they threw     Fell in a shower of dew,     Refreshing me; the spears     Flew harmless by my ears,     Struck quivering in the sod;     There, like the prophet's rod,     Put leaves out, took firm root,     And bore me instant fruit.     My foes were all astounded,     Dumbstricken and confounded,     Gaping in a long row;     They dared not thrust nor throw.     Thus, then, I climbed a steep     Buttress and won the keep,     And laughed and proudly blew     My horn, "Stand to! Stand to!     Wake up, sir! Here's a new     Attack! Stand to! Stand to!"