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Lo, Thames' wide ford, where Caradoc now arrives,
Is streaming shoulder-high of his tall Britons,
As after rain. Swimming their chariot steeds,
The army hardly o'erpass. Caratacus
To certain slade, withdraws, then, his caterfs;
Twixt that ford's head, lies open and hill-woods:
Whereas, in doom-ring, of great unhewed stones,
Stand altars, hallowed of all neighbour tribes.
Wont Briton lords lead, with them, their chief druids:
And was, behight, now, druids; In this place,
Be holden, three days, solemn sacrifice;
To memory of kíng, warsire, dead Togodumnos.

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When this have runners published, in nigh march;
From hundred wattle-hamlets, and from cotes,
Much people wend; even from Caer Verulam hearths.
By valley and hill, when time of night, they pass;
Or journeying, in day's light, hold forest paths;
For fear, (nor they armed folk,) to be cut-off:
So far in field, have Romans sent out horse.
 

An open ground in woodland; A. Sax. slæd, a valley.