The Song of Roland

There’s none but grieves and weeps from out his eyes;
They all pray God to safeguard Roland’s life

Said Roland then: “Full grievous is this fight.
I’ll sound my horn, and Charles will hear the cry.”
Quoth Oliver: “’Twould ill beseem a knight.
I asked you, comrade, and you refused, for pride.
Had Charles been here, then all would have gone right;
He’s not to blame, nor the men at his side.

He strikes him hard on his Toledo shield,
And lays him dead upon the grassy green.

forth this mighty cry.
111

He’ll not escape the ruin that awaits.

of the olive tree,
And with like words he sued to you for peace.
Then did you ask the French lords for their rede;
Foolish advice they gave to you indeed.
You sent the Paynim two counts of your meinie:
Basan was one, the other was Basile.
He smote their heads off in hills beneath Haltile.
This war you’ve started wage on, and make no cease;

Not to be aiding Roland the Paladin
Now that he’s fighting the Spanish Sarrasins.
He’s hurt so sore, I fear he cannot live.
God! and what men, those sixty with him still!
Better had never nor captain nor yet king.

Thirty great leagues the sound went echoing.

Roland has set Olifant to his lips,
Firmly he holds it and blows it with a will.
High are the mountains, the blast is long and shrill,

Blood from his mouth comes spurting scarlet-bright
He’s burst the veins of his temples outright.