 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
He comes again. Already have their eyes fixt,
Seen flames of burning homesteads, and wide reek;
And dust rise, o'er foes, marching in the plain.
They hastily gather in their woolly stock.
Blows one, on shrilling reeds, clear warlike note.
Drive that bold brood, with barking hounds, their folds,
Now át a run. Hill-brow eftsoon they pass:
And lost, with limping Cædmon, are to view.
Seen flames of burning homesteads, and wide reek;
And dust rise, o'er foes, marching in the plain.
They hastily gather in their woolly stock.
Blows one, on shrilling reeds, clear warlike note.
Drive that bold brood, with barking hounds, their folds,
Now át a run. Hill-brow eftsoon they pass:
And lost, with limping Cædmon, are to view.
And hearken, in the same, sounds solemn note,
Of the great Cloister bells bronze hollow throat;
From yonder lap resounding of these hills;
Warning all Cristen folk!
164
From yonder lap resounding of these hills;
Warning all Cristen folk!
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |