The Legend of St. Loy | ||
XIX.
Riven his plate, and pierced his mail,Battered his crest, and broke his blade,
That had so late, with dire avail,
Repelled his force, whose sacred steel
Waved in a Wife's and Daughter's aid,
Extended huge the Giant lay —
His shield, exempted from the fray,
Hung in its own armorial nich,
Alone unharmed — unconscious — which
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Exposed in utmost exigence;
Still, still he bent to pluck from thence
That stout circumference of defence,
To oppose to the consuming wrath
Of St. Eloy and Agilnoth —
But vain! — in vain! — pressed vengeance there,
His shrinking steps and failing strength,
Exulting o'er his measured length;
While fierce disdain from his despair
Broke forth—as sunk his soul to Hela's dwelling drear!
The Legend of St. Loy | ||