At Dead of Night

There was not a moon but half a moon,
And the stars were faint and few.
There were clouds full soon at the night's high noon,
And a rollicking wind that blew.

There were three that bled, there was one that led,
Where they fought with four and three.
The silvery swords were crimson red,
And the grass was a sight to see.

They laughed as they fell, and they died right well,
And they called to their foes for more.
"We will go to Hell, but the tale we'll tell
Of the seven that fought with four!"