A Good Knight in Prison

Wearily, drearily,
Half the day long,
Flap the great banners
High over the stone;
Strangely and eerily
Sounds the wind's song,
Bending the banner-poles.

While, all alone,
Watching the loophole's spark,
Lie I, with life all dark,
Feet tethered, hands fettered
Fast to the stone,
The grim walls, square-lettered
With prisoned men's groan.

Still strain the banner-poles
Through the wind's song,
Westward the banner rolls
Over my wrong.