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CXCII

Roland feeleth his eyesight reft,

Yet he stands erect with what strength is left;

From his bloodless cheek is the hue dispelled,

But his Durindana all bare he held.

In front a dark brown rock arose

He smote upon it ten grievous blows.

Grated the steel as it struck the flint,

Yet it brake not,

Nor bore its edge one dint.

“Mary,Mother,be thou mine aid!

Ah,Durindana,my ill-starred blade,

I may no longer thy guardian be!

What fields of battle I won with thee!

What realms and regions was ours to gain,

Now the lordship of Carlemaine!

Never shalt thou possessor know

Who would turn from face of mortal foe;

A gallant vassal so long thee bore,

Such as France the free shall know no more”. YHtQ/D9jiiwQ2P8J8A8ZkShOeCncn1x//A2cleEZabTyGx4Zsi8d+R7b7eB749HY

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