Classic Poem

Alone! And where is she? From that lone couch
Suddenly starting, to the chamber door
I spring: when lo, a churl with villanous slouch
Attacks me, followed by a dozen more.
The issue let the dull coward's doom avouch,
With his own cudgel smitten sharp and sore.
Dead, perhaps. His fate is worth nor tear nor smile;
My rapier should not touch a hound so vile.