 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Whilst rest, under the stars, (save who keep watch,)
The Roman arms; in dream, sees Togodumnos,
Of sleep, his hero-sires, Belin and Brennus,
In antique guise, and glorious Heremod;
As were they come, from mansion of the gods,
Standing on grave-hill, fast-by Troynovant.
Howbeit perceives, not well, Cunobelin's son,
Their antique speech; which tells of coming ill!
The Roman arms; in dream, sees Togodumnos,
Of sleep, his hero-sires, Belin and Brennus,
In antique guise, and glorious Heremod;
As were they come, from mansion of the gods,
Standing on grave-hill, fast-by Troynovant.
Howbeit perceives, not well, Cunobelin's son,
Their antique speech; which tells of coming ill!
He wakes, and their dark words are in his ears,
Though fades the sense: but falls a sore constraint,
On the young warlord's heart. Before the dawn,
The night-wind, as great mourning harp, in woods,
Sounds. Togodumnos rose, and so went forth,
To visit round all camps of his caterfs.
He knows each woad-stained nation, by their arms.
A dew is sprent, like blood, on the night-grass.
And mizzling rain steeps Britons' bulls'-hide shields.
Is rainbow seen, before the sun, that mounts.
Though fades the sense: but falls a sore constraint,
230
The night-wind, as great mourning harp, in woods,
Sounds. Togodumnos rose, and so went forth,
To visit round all camps of his caterfs.
He knows each woad-stained nation, by their arms.
A dew is sprent, like blood, on the night-grass.
And mizzling rain steeps Britons' bulls'-hide shields.
Is rainbow seen, before the sun, that mounts.
Cohorts, which Geta leads, have strayed, all night.
Last, halted they, in thick and hollow place;
He sent out scouts. Now erst, when stars announce,
Is nigh the dawn, his spies, returned, rehearse;
How, full they found of marching men, all paths:
Britons arrived to Britons, are this night.
They creeping, close, might shroud themselves, uneath;
In grove, whence heard they strange loud chant of druids.
Then saw they Britons' priests, by altar-fires;
And captives, by them, bounden, stripped of weed;
Whom, heard their cries, perceived we to be Romans!
Whilst stood, (quoth they,) with horror, still our hearts;
Priests smote those men, as beasts of sacrifice.
And rent their panting breasts, on the cold grass!
They pluckt forth reeking hearts, from Roman breasts!
Last, halted they, in thick and hollow place;
He sent out scouts. Now erst, when stars announce,
Is nigh the dawn, his spies, returned, rehearse;
How, full they found of marching men, all paths:
Britons arrived to Britons, are this night.
They creeping, close, might shroud themselves, uneath;
In grove, whence heard they strange loud chant of druids.
Then saw they Britons' priests, by altar-fires;
And captives, by them, bounden, stripped of weed;
Whom, heard their cries, perceived we to be Romans!
Whilst stood, (quoth they,) with horror, still our hearts;
231
And rent their panting breasts, on the cold grass!
They pluckt forth reeking hearts, from Roman breasts!
Stood silent Geta's soldiers! Then great oaths,
They sware, to crucify, in Britain's war,
All whom might take their hands, of barbare druids.
Geta erects there, in three ranks, his cohorts.
Bird-gazing druids, which, from twilight hills,
The early flight devise of morning birds;
Now, springing dawn, descry those marching Romans!
And blow their crooked horns, of horrid sound.
They sware, to crucify, in Britain's war,
All whom might take their hands, of barbare druids.
Geta erects there, in three ranks, his cohorts.
Bird-gazing druids, which, from twilight hills,
The early flight devise of morning birds;
Now, springing dawn, descry those marching Romans!
And blow their crooked horns, of horrid sound.
Like to grim boar, that rusheth from dank wood,
Issues Segontorix, with swift battle-carts,
Calleva's king, and warriors' thick caterfs.
Had lodged, last night, the Guledig, on this part.
Gainst whom outrun, hurling their javelins, soldiers.
Romans draw forth, then, their short stabbing glaives.
They, angry, stubborn Belges Atrebats,
Bear back, on their piked shields, tumultuous,
Maugré huge force of king Segontorix;
Who slaughter makes of all, before his face!
Issues Segontorix, with swift battle-carts,
Calleva's king, and warriors' thick caterfs.
Had lodged, last night, the Guledig, on this part.
Gainst whom outrun, hurling their javelins, soldiers.
Romans draw forth, then, their short stabbing glaives.
They, angry, stubborn Belges Atrebats,
Bear back, on their piked shields, tumultuous,
Maugré huge force of king Segontorix;
Who slaughter makes of all, before his face!
But Belges' warhorns' hoarse and dreadful note,
Heard, afar-off, of martial Togodumnos;
Fearing some evil turn, he hastes send out,
In aid, caterfs of Catuvelaunians;
Men wont stand fast, in battle, like a wall,
The Wall-of-Verulam, named, in chants of Britons.
Before them, rush loud-rumbling, swift war-chariots;
With sounding hooves of long-maned island steeds.
Stand noble young men, in those battle-carts,
With crackling whips, or run on their yoke-beams,
Painted, like dragons, with a bloody crest:
Whence they hurl down, on soldiers, sleet of javelins.
232
Fearing some evil turn, he hastes send out,
In aid, caterfs of Catuvelaunians;
Men wont stand fast, in battle, like a wall,
The Wall-of-Verulam, named, in chants of Britons.
Before them, rush loud-rumbling, swift war-chariots;
With sounding hooves of long-maned island steeds.
Stand noble young men, in those battle-carts,
With crackling whips, or run on their yoke-beams,
Painted, like dragons, with a bloody crest:
Whence they hurl down, on soldiers, sleet of javelins.
Certain light-armed, that march before the cohorts,
Grounding their spears, erst find, to withstand chariots;
Batavian foot-folk, men of kin with Almains,
Isle-dwellers, twixt two rivers of the Rhine:
And they exceed all Gauls, in barbare force.
Stern Guledig shouts, above the battle-din!
And soldiers fall; betwixt the Atrebats,
And spears of Catuvelaunians, which arrive.
And voice, aye more, of swart Segontorix,
Lord of the two-horned helm, like trump, cheers on,
The late beat-back, again victorious, Britons.
Grounding their spears, erst find, to withstand chariots;
Batavian foot-folk, men of kin with Almains,
Isle-dwellers, twixt two rivers of the Rhine:
And they exceed all Gauls, in barbare force.
Stern Guledig shouts, above the battle-din!
And soldiers fall; betwixt the Atrebats,
And spears of Catuvelaunians, which arrive.
And voice, aye more, of swart Segontorix,
Lord of the two-horned helm, like trump, cheers on,
The late beat-back, again victorious, Britons.
| The Dawn in Britain | |