The Dawn in Britain by Charles M. Doughty |
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 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Passed the dune-gates, duke Hiradoc draws, now, reins,
Before that great new mead-hall of Cunobelin.
Receives a royal hind their smoking steeds;
And leads to stall. They go in, by wide porch:
And hark! one toucht, midst a new silence made,
An harp's shrill strings. They hear a vates' voice:
The harp, the warlike voice of bard Carvilios!
Before that great new mead-hall of Cunobelin.
Receives a royal hind their smoking steeds;
And leads to stall. They go in, by wide porch:
And hark! one toucht, midst a new silence made,
An harp's shrill strings. They hear a vates' voice:
The harp, the warlike voice of bard Carvilios!
They, next the doorway, stand; where noble Thorolf,
Unto a pillar leaned, gan much admire
The countenance of those germain kings, which sit,
In the high seat; young men, like to twin gods:
Aye, and some here sit, whom he had seen in Almaigne,
(With ship-king Divicos,) round these royal walls!
Nor, yet, heard Thorolf tell, of Divicos' death.
Unto a pillar leaned, gan much admire
The countenance of those germain kings, which sit,
In the high seat; young men, like to twin gods:
Aye, and some here sit, whom he had seen in Almaigne,
(With ship-king Divicos,) round these royal walls!
Nor, yet, heard Thorolf tell, of Divicos' death.
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That bard, now, turned, to mourning, his stern note;
Records dead Divicos, to the warlike Britons.
Then darkened is the Almaigne hero's mood;
For he, in part, perceives the Gaulish speech:
Nor marvels, gazing on their warlike looks,
In hall, assembled; that the arms of Brennus,
Had vanquished and burned Rome. Sit men, like kings,
On polisht stools, round these high timbered walls.
Records dead Divicos, to the warlike Britons.
Then darkened is the Almaigne hero's mood;
For he, in part, perceives the Gaulish speech:
Nor marvels, gazing on their warlike looks,
In hall, assembled; that the arms of Brennus,
Had vanquished and burned Rome. Sit men, like kings,
On polisht stools, round these high timbered walls.
Whilst yet he muses, paused Carvilios.
Then made forth Thorolf, powdered as he was,
With dust of running wheels; and Hiradoc.
How turn, on him to gaze, the Britons' press!
Them seems, some war-god, entered, in man's guise.
Hail Hiradoc! quoth Cunobelin's royal sons.
Then made forth Thorolf, powdered as he was,
With dust of running wheels; and Hiradoc.
How turn, on him to gaze, the Britons' press!
Them seems, some war-god, entered, in man's guise.
Hail Hiradoc! quoth Cunobelin's royal sons.
And he; Illustrious Catuvelaunian kings,
Behold, renowned prince Thorolf, Wittig's son;
Who rules, o'er Ambones, beyond the Rhine.
He, nephew of Brennus, Fridia and Heremod,
Obedient to a dream, hath sailed to Britain;
To fight, with us, gainst Rome's invading legions:
And brings, in aid, two thousand Almain warriors.
His long row-keels, ride under my dune cliff.
Answered Cunobelin's sons, In happy hour!
With theirs, sounds loud commingled, people's voice;
In great mead-hall of royal Verulamion!
Behold, renowned prince Thorolf, Wittig's son;
Who rules, o'er Ambones, beyond the Rhine.
He, nephew of Brennus, Fridia and Heremod,
Obedient to a dream, hath sailed to Britain;
To fight, with us, gainst Rome's invading legions:
And brings, in aid, two thousand Almain warriors.
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Answered Cunobelin's sons, In happy hour!
With theirs, sounds loud commingled, people's voice;
In great mead-hall of royal Verulamion!
Uprose those princes, germains, from high stall:
To him, descended; they take, both, his hands;
He kisseth them, both, on their two cheeks, again.
And they, with kiss, him lead, and kinsman name;
Among the kings, to sit, betwixt them both:
And he them asks, of brotherhood and bond;
As Heremod, yore, with Belinus and Brennus.
Sith Thorolf greets the bard Carvilios.
To him, descended; they take, both, his hands;
He kisseth them, both, on their two cheeks, again.
And they, with kiss, him lead, and kinsman name;
Among the kings, to sit, betwixt them both:
And he them asks, of brotherhood and bond;
As Heremod, yore, with Belinus and Brennus.
Sith Thorolf greets the bard Carvilios.
| The Dawn in Britain | |