I myself beheld the King Charge at the head of all his Table Round, And all his legions crying Christ and him, And break them; and I saw him, after, stand High on a heap of slain, from spur to plume Red as the rising sun with heathen blood, And seeing me, with a great voice he cried, "They are broken, they are broken!" for the King, However mild he seems at home, nor cares For triumph in our mimic wars, the jousts For if his own knight cast him down, he laughs Saying, his knights are better men than he Yet in this heathen war the fire of God Fills him: I never saw his like: there lives No greater leader.
About This Quote
About Alfred Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson was a 19th-century British poet laureate. Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson was an English poet. He was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom during much of Queen Victoria's reign. Read more on Wikipedia →
Themes
- War — Reflections on conflict, peace, and the human cost of war