The Dawn in Britain by Charles M. Doughty |
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![]() | The Dawn in Britain | ![]() |
121
Was Cerix, mongst Silures, sore beset;
Though ward about him hardy champions' shields.
Maglos, uneath, like mighty ram, yet Romans
Rebuts. His brother's peril neither knows;
Nor germain might, of germain, receive aid.
Though ward about him hardy champions' shields.
Maglos, uneath, like mighty ram, yet Romans
Rebuts. His brother's peril neither knows;
Nor germain might, of germain, receive aid.
Rector of war-carts, kinsman of the queen,
Is fallen young Brentyn, from his bloody chariot.
This night-time, had he driven, from fresh leas;
Where, pastured, three days, were his war-worn steeds.
Duke of a thousand, riding in swift scythe-carts,
He, at dawn, drew nigh, to vex the Romans' march.
Is fallen young Brentyn, from his bloody chariot.
This night-time, had he driven, from fresh leas;
Where, pastured, three days, were his war-worn steeds.
Duke of a thousand, riding in swift scythe-carts,
He, at dawn, drew nigh, to vex the Romans' march.
Then glittering seen, this battle afar off,
Led Brentyn mainly forth: and hurled on Romans'
Light-armed, strewed much field with their carcases!
But falling, now, on cohorts of a legion;
There many teams were pierced: and the first chariots,
Being overthrown, was soon, that violent javelin,
Where thickest strife raged, pierced the hero's chest.
And to the mould rushed Brentyn! like as falls
Tall pine, by lightning rent, on wind-scourged cliff;
And lay full still, dead body without breath.
Led Brentyn mainly forth: and hurled on Romans'
Light-armed, strewed much field with their carcases!
But falling, now, on cohorts of a legion;
There many teams were pierced: and the first chariots,
Being overthrown, was soon, that violent javelin,
Where thickest strife raged, pierced the hero's chest.
And to the mould rushed Brentyn! like as falls
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And lay full still, dead body without breath.
Dungannon, the old, fell, spread his hardy arms,
With bracelets girt of gold, to stay the flight:
Stout lord was this, mongst Kynan's Ordovices.
In that he, father, each, by name, rehearsed
The young men's fathers, he, by Gaulish shaft,
Was pierced. Off-smitten Dungannon's head, a knight
It bare forth, on his lance, ruth to all Britons!
Madron and Berriol, his oath-brother's sons,
Fighting, amongst who foremost, to their aid,
Called their king Kynan; lest were spoiled his corse.
But could not Kynan, Hammeraxe, then break,
Of spears, that hurtling press! They, eftsoon, both
Fell on him slain. Cigfran, with sheeprich lord
Cadoc, and Aerg fell, Demetans, in that place.
With bracelets girt of gold, to stay the flight:
Stout lord was this, mongst Kynan's Ordovices.
In that he, father, each, by name, rehearsed
The young men's fathers, he, by Gaulish shaft,
Was pierced. Off-smitten Dungannon's head, a knight
It bare forth, on his lance, ruth to all Britons!
Madron and Berriol, his oath-brother's sons,
Fighting, amongst who foremost, to their aid,
Called their king Kynan; lest were spoiled his corse.
But could not Kynan, Hammeraxe, then break,
Of spears, that hurtling press! They, eftsoon, both
Fell on him slain. Cigfran, with sheeprich lord
Cadoc, and Aerg fell, Demetans, in that place.
Prince Kondilan, when now certain Rufus Cuspius,
A cohort's first centurion, he had pierced;
In that to gird-off his helmed head, he stoopt,
Him overran the triple-rankéd legion.
Stout duke he was of thousand Western men.
A cohort's first centurion, he had pierced;
In that to gird-off his helmed head, he stoopt,
Him overran the triple-rankéd legion.
Stout duke he was of thousand Western men.
Fell Guelti and Devron, lords of Troynovant,
And Morchel, leading, (white-locked magistrate,)
Young warriors, archers, in his battle-chariot.
Blue Britons, clustered round their reeling ensigns,
Yet turned their face, at shout of Antethrigus!
To strive, again, caterfs, with phalanxed Romans.
They woad-stained, naked, fight, with plate-clad soldiers!
Are those Vespasian's thick-ranked faithful legion.
And Morchel, leading, (white-locked magistrate,)
Young warriors, archers, in his battle-chariot.
Blue Britons, clustered round their reeling ensigns,
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To strive, again, caterfs, with phalanxed Romans.
They woad-stained, naked, fight, with plate-clad soldiers!
Are those Vespasian's thick-ranked faithful legion.
Then, like as thresher, in the winter moons,
Smites stubble, in a barn, a long-haired warrior,
Gormael; who sometime dwelled, under blood-ban,
(An exile from North parts,) with Antethrigus;
One held in honour, for his matchless force;
Down-leapt, mongst stout Icenians, from shrill warcart;
Helms hews, bursts plate on panting breasts of Romans.
Smites stubble, in a barn, a long-haired warrior,
Gormael; who sometime dwelled, under blood-ban,
(An exile from North parts,) with Antethrigus;
One held in honour, for his matchless force;
Down-leapt, mongst stout Icenians, from shrill warcart;
Helms hews, bursts plate on panting breasts of Romans.
Gainst Flavius' thick-set ranks, another duke,
Trevorion fights, whose dune is in wide heath;
Whence fenny Ouse slides, tardy, to salt deep.
Is fame, could this outstrip the flying hart:
Seemed glittering chariot wheel, his burning glaive.
But, now, on his long heavy bull's-hide shield,
Stumbled the hero's foot; and slides his heel,
In slough of gore. In-thrusting, with strong pulse,
A stout centurion, midst the belly, smote,
With glaive; and pierced the iron the prince's bowels.
He fell, like half-hewed tree, drawn down of ropes.
Casnodin nigh him fell, lord of dune-cliff,
In pleasant summer-land of Durotriges.
Trevorion fights, whose dune is in wide heath;
Whence fenny Ouse slides, tardy, to salt deep.
Is fame, could this outstrip the flying hart:
Seemed glittering chariot wheel, his burning glaive.
But, now, on his long heavy bull's-hide shield,
Stumbled the hero's foot; and slides his heel,
In slough of gore. In-thrusting, with strong pulse,
A stout centurion, midst the belly, smote,
With glaive; and pierced the iron the prince's bowels.
He fell, like half-hewed tree, drawn down of ropes.
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In pleasant summer-land of Durotriges.
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