Dagger what heart hath quivered neath thy blow?
Whence fell these three dark spots to stain the steel.
All else is bright: was it a human Foe
Who did the rankling of thy strong blade feel?
Or has some ruffian grasped that jewelled hilt
And Peirced of innocense the quiet breast.
Hast thou the glorious blood of martyrs spilt
Or torn the mighty warrior's lofty crest.

Perhaps in gloomy Forest thou hast slain
The tiger or the Lion, — horrid thing —
Till hot blood from his heart thy brightness stain.
Didst thou from him loud roars of anguish wring.
Why midst each glancing sword and shield and spear
Which dart around insufferable day
Dost thou alone tarnished and marked appear
Not sending forth an undefiled ray.

Ages on Ages long have passed away
Since thou wast ruthless in the battle plain,
Since chieftains clad in polished war array
Have with thee triumphed o'er the bloody slain.
Thou hast not yet forgot the purple streams
That slaked of old thy savage thirst for gore.
Black mid the radiance which around it gleams
Appear those remnants of the days of yore.

What spell pronounced by the unholy tongue
O wizard or magician gave command
That those three drops in wrath or treachery wrung
For rolling years untold would steadfast stand
Irraseable by power of mortal hand.
Dagger thou knowst not; voiceless is the crowd
Of ancient arms that clothe this spacious wall.
Voiceless and speechless are those nobles grand
Who bore ye once: now each in gloomy pall
Lies deaf even to his own shrill battle call
Which erst had roused him from the slumber deep
And girt him with a giant's vigorous might
Sent him like thunder or the whirlwind sweep
To death or victory in the glorious fight
Victry's reward and death's eternal night.