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But when he had spent some little time in making proof of the bow, and had found it to be in good plight, like as a harper in tuning of his harp draws out a string, with such ease or much more did Ulysses draw to the head the string of his own tough bow, and in letting of it go, it twanged with such a shrill noise as a swallow makes when it sings through the air; which so much amazed the suitors that their colours came and went, and the skies gave out a noise of thunder, which at heart cheered Ulysses, for he knew that now his long labours by the disposal of the Fates drew to an end.
Six hundred stalwart warriors, of England's pride the best, Did grasp the lance and sabre on Balaclava's crest, And with their trusty leader, Lord Cardigan the brave, Charged up to spike the Russian guns or find a soldier's grave. And the refrain, which every man present sings with a face as solemn as my Lord Chancellor sitting on the Woolsack half an hour longer than usual, runs in this fashion:
He cheered her up at once, and she began to poke at him with a stick and to sing: "The frog sits in the rushes, The funny fat old man, And sings his evening ditties As sweetly as he can, Quark Quark Quark." But as suddenly as he had appeared on the scene, the frog vanished again with a leap and a bound into the dark waters of the little brook that ran along by the side of the way.
"A right free and merry home and company have we up yonder," and he pointed towards Mount Lebanon. "Thou and Guy?" "No, no; Guy turned craven. Could not endure our wanderings in the marshes and hills, pined for his wife forsooth, fell sick, and must needs go and give himself up to the Pope; so he sings the penitential psalms night and day." "And we heard thou wast dead at Siena."
He folded his arms, his head fell upon his chest, and he shut his eyes to exclude the light. "I am out of harmony with all creation," he said. "I am fit for a place where no bird ever sings. This is the evidence of my doom. Only the blessed can be in harmony with God's works. Heaven is harmony the music of his laws. Evil is discord myself am discord."
The raid ended in a crushing defeat which broke the West-Saxon strength, but a British poet in verses still left to us sings piteously the death song of Uriconium, "the white town in the valley," the town of white stone gleaming among the green woodlands.
But can we say with honest reproach, "forgotten poets"? The loiterer in the wood hears the song of the wood-thrush, but is the hermit-bird wronged, or is his song less sweet, because it is not echoed round the world? Is Fame to be held responsible for not retaining the name of every minstrel who loiters by and touches his harp lightly, and sings a sweet song as he passes on?
"The captain and first lieutenant were flabbergasted, I could see; but Captain Manter was as brave an officer as ever stepped, and he pulled himself together in a minute, as the fog, which had only lifted for a minute, came down again shutting out everything from view so that we could not see a yard from the side. `Don't be alarmed, my men, he sings out in his cheery voice, so that every hand could hear him, `it's only a waterspout that is magnified by the fog; and as it gets nearer we'll give it the starboard broadside to clear it up and burst it.
My religion, maybe, is love of life wild life as it was in the beginnin' an' the wind that blows secrets from everywhere, an' the water that sings all day an' night, an' the stars that shine constant, an' the trees that speak somehow, an' the rocks that aren't dead. I'm never alone here or on the trails. There's somethin' unseen, but always with me. An' that's It! Call it God if you like.
In the second act, the princes celebrate their victory in the Duke's castle. After some pompous talk on the part of the official Minnesänger, Guntram is invited to sing. Discouraged beforehand by the wickedness of his audience, and feeling that he can sing to no purpose, he hesitates and is on the point of leaving them. But Freihild's sadness holds him back, and for her sake he sings.
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