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But sitting, in their common council-hall,
Britons entreat of war. Some, yet, blue-faced,
(As stained with warlike woad,) returned from fight,

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In foreland, looks towards swart Silures' coast,
O'er wide salt-streaming Hafren. Amathon's son,
Kowain, put to the worse his father's foes:
And thence, brought, home, hath many captives. Amathon,
Would send those, eftsoon, bound, to king Duneda;
His lord, and all Dumnonia's sire, in Isca.
Touching those strangers, had the herdman, Dylan,
To Amathon told already; and how appeased,
The whiles he communed with those shipwrecked wights,
(Which seemed him marvellous thing,) were his old aches!
Now Kowain hath an only beloved child,
Lies very sick; and help none healing herbs,
The babe; nor whispered spells of druids. With Dylan,
Come Kowain, in, then, to the strangers' bowers;
That prince besought, touching the strangers' knees,
In Britons' guise, them, of some healing. Eve
Now was: and rose, admonished of an angel,
Joseph; and Pistos takes with him and Shalum.
Then, in dim street, they go with Kowain, forth.
And, lo, in that they wend, a gusty wind,
Sudden, this young lord's broidered saie outblows,

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From his large shoulders; where appears, wide wound,
Which he hath hid, not closed. Kowain's fresh looks,
Sith days, men marked, discoloured, wan; and cause
Was thrust-down spear of ambushed enemy,
From oak's thick boughs, where he rode-by, in grove.
Took Joseph, who beheld, him, by the hand;
And looking up to heaven, whence cometh our help!
He toucht that rankling sore; and made, it was,
Whole. Kowain, musing, in that they wend forth,
This stranger, in his secret, deemed a god.
From twilight path, they enter Kowain's house.
Is this, where burning torches, at the porch.
And comes to them, anon, prince Kowain's wife;
Who, in her bosom, bears a fainting child.
Then Joseph, full of prayer, Christ's healing hands,
Lays on this sick; and smiles the gentile babe:
And from that moment, she recovers health.
And joy the saints; unto whom reveals the Spirit,
God's name should glorify this little maid!
And she it is; which surnamed Claudia, sith,
Was spouse to Pudens, in great gentile Rome.
To-day, in their moot-hall, concluded was,
Kowain should lead his captives to Duneda.
Bethinks him Amathon, also, with his son,

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To send those shipwrecked strangers; to Caer Isca.
Should some tin-ship them, when occasion serve,
Convey, with gifts, thence to Gaul's Continent.
Kowain would, to those shipwrecked guests, give meed:
But will those naught, save needful sustenance.
Bake Bara and Hirfryd, wife to Kowain, bread;
And they, with their own hands, prepare, to-night,
What else were needful to the strangers' voyage.
Cloth they, good store, (and those have need of cloth,)
And yarn, in wain, bestow; which should to-morrow,
Those shipwrecked, to Caer Isca, convey forth.
 

The Severn river.

Now Devon.

Now Exeter.

2 Tim. iv. 21.