The Dawn in Britain :: :: University of Virginia Library

Riding on-high, in heaven, the white moon-goddess,
(Like mother of this silent starry night,)
Wide overshines that sullen water-face.
Toiled some poor fisher, nigh, in bascad boat,
That creeky place, to get his children meat,
Kruin, the maimed; and having now outlayed
His wicker sales, he cast, with prayer to Nuth,
His net; paid-out, and gan it now spread-forth;
When infinite navy arrives, strange keels, strange sails!

Then Kruin, softly, rowed, in his frail bark;
And, in thick sedges, hid him, lurked for dread!
He watched an hour; sith Thames'-sound, fearful, passed.
But toucht his little skiff, to Kentish shore;
He wakes there hamlet, with his shrill hulloa!
Men roused; confused, run from their cabans forth,
To the salt-tiding river's oozy brinks;
Deeming that wolves, or some boars' hunt, it was:

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For chill, like reeds, that waver in the wind,
They stand! When those have Kruin's saw heard out,
They holp him in to land. Those straightway, choose
Then, two of theirs, strong runners on their feet,
This tiding, to bear forth, to warlord Caradoc.
As scudding bush, before some lenten blast,
(Yet night,) those leap forth, o'er fair field of Kent:
Sith, boldly swimming, they o'er Medway pass.

To a great village, soon, then, those arrive:
Whose old men, from their mouths, heard that war-word,
Send swiftest runners; which towards Durovernium,
Speed, on their feet. Others they send, warflames
Kindle, on beacon-hill, calling to arms!
And heard from mouth, loud shouted through the fields,
To mouth, is the Land's-cry, as the day springs:
Which cometh, shortly, to the warlord's ears.