Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

   Again he comes; nor dart nor lance avail,
   Nor the wild plunging of the tortured horse;
   Though man and man’s avenging arms assail,
   Vain are his weapons, vainer is his force. 
   One gallant steed is stretched a mangled corse;
   Another, hideous sight! unseamed appears,
   His gory chest unveils life’s panting source;
   Though death-struck, still his feeble frame he rears;
Staggering, but stemming all, his lord unharmed he bears.