text:  * * * * * "Oh Thou where'er thy bones at rest Thy sprite to haunt delighteth best Whether upon the blood-embrued plain-- Or where thou ken'st from far The dismal cry of war _Or see'st some mountain made of corses slain _ "Or see'st the war-clad steed That prances o'er the mead And neighs to be among the pointed spears-- Or in black armour stalk around Embattled Bristol once thy ground Or haunt with lurid glow the castle stairs "Or fiery round the Minster glare! Let Bristol still be made thy care; Guard it from foeman and consuming fire; Like Avon's stream embrace it round Nor let a sparkle harm the ground Till in one flame the total world expire