The Dawn in Britain by Charles M. Doughty |
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 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
They twain, now looking towards the Britons' flight;
Behold, how scattered far the armed caterfs,
Now in wide field are spersed, like water-drops,
To the deep woods; and little hope is left,
Gather again blue Britons, to their ensigns.
Nor they, for powder might discern and mist,
How set, on Romans, Beichiad's rushing war-carts;
Nor wherefore legions halt, now, in pursuit.
Behold, how scattered far the armed caterfs,
Now in wide field are spersed, like water-drops,
To the deep woods; and little hope is left,
Gather again blue Britons, to their ensigns.
Nor they, for powder might discern and mist,
How set, on Romans, Beichiad's rushing war-carts;
Nor wherefore legions halt, now, in pursuit.
They grieved, then, drave apart, to a void place;
Where covered thicket-hollow is from view;
Such as, whence wont outrush swift ambushed scythecarts,
Gainst marching legions. There light those great captains,
With drooping looks, and fastened on the ground;
Womb-god, which seems to-day devour her sons!
And drink their blood, which fostered had her paps!
They leaned, on their long spears, and the teams' yokes,
That seem to mourn, hanging their long-maned necks;
And other lords, there now together met;
With few hoarse words, hold hasty parliament.
They stare, each, upon other! and want breath.
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Such as, whence wont outrush swift ambushed scythecarts,
Gainst marching legions. There light those great captains,
With drooping looks, and fastened on the ground;
Womb-god, which seems to-day devour her sons!
And drink their blood, which fostered had her paps!
They leaned, on their long spears, and the teams' yokes,
That seem to mourn, hanging their long-maned necks;
And other lords, there now together met;
With few hoarse words, hold hasty parliament.
They stare, each, upon other! and want breath.
| The Dawn in Britain | |