"Life Is Before Us"

I heard youth's silver clarion call to Fate,
  And looking forth beheld his flower-fair face,
  Framed in his shining helmet as he sat
  Sheathed in white armour, full of fearless grace,
  Watching the coming of a threat'ning cloud,
  Hueless and shapeless, that with stealthy pace
  Was creeping towards him. "O dear youth, beware!"
  But answer made he none save laugh'd aloud.
  "Beware," I cried, "it hides some hideous snare."
  At it he made—and vanished in the shroud,
  Whence there broke forth, O Christ! so sharp a cry
  Of dire defeat and mortal agony,
  That all my blood ran back in every vein;
  And when th' accursed blackness roll'd away,
  Prone in the dust my lovely warrior lay,
  Defiled, not dead; sore wounded—shamed—not slain;
  His shining armour smirched with many a stain,
  Filthy and foul, ne'er to be bright again.