Arvan, Or the Story of the Sword: A Poem (Classic Reprint)

Excerpt from Arvan, or the Story of the Sword: A Poem

The Chiefs had met in the high palace hall For the great king held regal feast that night. Round him were gathered all his mighty men, Foremost in thought, or deed, through all the world Some wise-browed, thoughtful-visaged, seamed and worn, With their long wrestle with the sleepless years Wearers of the dread silver Crown, old men, White-bearded, with calm luminous eyes, Whose gaze Saw far into the future Councillors Were these of Arvan, highest in the realm, Who gave wise laws unto the sons of men Others with massive fronts, and eagle eyes, And strong-set mouths, Whose faces yet were full Of the red light of battle: these had been In many a deadly conflict: death had looked Into their eyes nor seen an eyelid droop. Grand stalwart forms were theirs, towerlike and vast, That though unarmoured, in their own great strength Seemed yet arrayed for strife. Others were crowned With jewelled diadems, Whose many stones.

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