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The Dawn in Britain

by Charles M. Doughty

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Whilst the tribes' kings prepare, in all South-march,
To warfare; tribes that dwell in far North Britain,
Heard tiding of great Rome's invading threat.
Mongst blue Brigantes, erst, then sire Volisios,
That coast's-ward, sending, by swift messengers, forth,
Green boughs, which druids have pluckt, in sacred groves,
Of holy oaks, assembles parliament,
Of neighbour lords; to treat, concerning aid,
Which they Cunobelin, warlord of South Britain,
Mote send; for, not yet, heard they the sire's death.

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Princes of warlike tribes sit with Volisios,
In hallowed plot, ringed round, of great pight stones;
To choose, among them, one, by sacred lot,
To captain their great warfare, from the North.
Behold this lot is fallen, on king Velaunos,
Of Coritavian nation. In his name,
Swear then all kings, chief magistrates and high druids.