The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
XLIX
Till evening came he sabred on,
And then the victory was won;
For Beelzebub had made his fowls
With other views of life than owls.
They dropped asleep at sunset hour
Precisely like a closing flower,
Nor ever knew what happened next;
For Downing, panting forth a text
Of jubilee, put sword in sheath,
And sawed their heads off with their teeth.
And then the victory was won;
For Beelzebub had made his fowls
With other views of life than owls.
They dropped asleep at sunset hour
Precisely like a closing flower,
Nor ever knew what happened next;
For Downing, panting forth a text
Of jubilee, put sword in sheath,
And sawed their heads off with their teeth.
106
Again victorious in fight,
He dallied not till morning light,
But dared the murky stream and flew
To prodigies and perils new.
Another day, aye many more
He quivered swiftly down the roar
And spume of that enchanted tide,
With goblin sights on every side,
So nondescript in shape and size,
So madly marvelous in dies,
So otherworldly and unsightly,
That he alone can paint them rightly.
He dallied not till morning light,
But dared the murky stream and flew
To prodigies and perils new.
Another day, aye many more
He quivered swiftly down the roar
And spume of that enchanted tide,
With goblin sights on every side,
So nondescript in shape and size,
So madly marvelous in dies,
So otherworldly and unsightly,
That he alone can paint them rightly.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |