Careful Words

steed (n.)

O, now, for ever

Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!

Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars

That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!

Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,

The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,

The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!

And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats

The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,

Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Othello. Act iii. Sc. 3.

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed;

In war, he mounts the warrior's steed;

In halls, in gay attire is seen;

In hamlets, dances on the green.

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,

And men below and saints above;

For love is heaven, and heaven is love.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto iii. Stanza 1.

Yet spirit immortal, the tomb cannot bind thee,

But like thine own eagle that soars to the sun

Thou springest from bondage and leavest behind thee

A name which before thee no mortal hath won.

Tho' nations may combat, and war's thunders rattle,

No more on thy steed wilt thou sweep o'er the plain:

Thou sleep'st thy last sleep, thou hast fought thy last battle,

No sound can awake thee to glory again.

Leonard Heath: The Grave of Bonaparte.

This is the place. Stand still, my steed,—

Let me review the scene,

And summon from the shadowy past

The forms that once have been.

Henry W Longfellow (1807-1882): A Gleam of Sunshine.

Once more upon the waters! yet once more!

And the waves bound beneath me as a steed

That knows his rider.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 2.

The hum of either army stilly sounds,

That the fixed sentinels almost receive

The secret whispers of each other's watch;

Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames

Each battle sees the other's umbered face;

Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs

Piercing the night's dull ear, and from the tents

The armourers, accomplishing the knights,

With busy hammers closing rivets up,

Give dreadful note of preparation.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Henry V. Act iv. Prologue.