A craven hung along the battle's edge,
And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel---
That blue blade that the king's son bears---but
this blunt thing---!"
And lowering crept away and left the field.
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.
---Edward Rowland Sill
