The Portrait Of A Warrior
His brow is seamed with line and scar; His cheek is red and dark as wine; The fires as of a Northern star Beneath his cap of sable shine. His right hand, bared of leathern glove, Hangs open like an iron gin, You stoop to see his pulses move, To hear the blood sweep out and in. He looks some king, so solitary In earnest thought he seems to stand, As if across a lonely sea He gazed impatient of the land. Out of the noisy centuries The foolish and the fearful fade; Yet burn unquenched these warrior eyes, Time hath not dimmed nor death dismayed.
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"His brow is seamed with line and scar;..."
Walter De La Mare's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The Portrait Of A Warrior"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...