Explore "The Assault Heroic" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Down in the mud I lay, / Tired out by my long day / Of five damned days and nights, / Five sleepless days and nights,. / Dream-snatched, and set me where / The dungeon of Despair / Looms over Desolate Sea, / Frowning and threatening me / With aspect high and steep -- / A most malignant keep. / My foes that lay within / Shouted and made a din, / Hooted and grinned and cried: / "Today we've killed your pride; / Today your ardour ends. / We've murdered all your friends; / We've undermined by stealth / Your happiness and your health. / We've taken away your hope; / Now you may droop and mope / To misery and to Death."
But with my spear of Faith, / Stout as an oaken rafter, / With my round shield of laughter, / With my sharp, tongue-like sword / That speaks a bitter word, / I stood beneath the wall / And there defied them all. / The stones they cast I caught / And alchemized with thought / Into such lumps of gold / As dreaming misers hold. / The boiling oil they threw / Fell in a shower of dew, / Refreshing me; the spears / Flew harmless by my ears, / Struck quivering in the sod; / There, like the prophet's rod, / Put leaves out, took firm root, / And bore me instant fruit.