Classic Poem

But now the summer of his life was past,
And rigid winter cloth'd his head with grey;
His mighty limbs and sinews strong were brast;
And to his valiant heart his hand said nay;
Nor strove he now in honourable fray,
His long-try'd arms of adamantine mould,
Whose glorious lustre dimm'd the radiant day,
And all his war-like trophies manifold,
The strong and stately pillars of his hall uphold.