Nay through the dark
and scripted roam
A ne’er received
and sullen dome

A chin is weary
The fringe in breaks
With eyes a-dropping
From second takes

The mist and mire
Have taken toll
The clouds conspire
The head to roll

But onward treading
And forward feared
For neigh regretting
A path appeared

No rest for worn
Nor can he fall
For battle horn
Or back to wall

The beard treads on
May never fail
‘Ere just to dawn
Our traveled tale