The Dawn in Britain by Charles M. Doughty |
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 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Now is the hour, when most, twixt eve and morn,
Men wont to slumber: but taste Britons, yet,
No kindly rest, in camps of their caterfs;
And cause are fiends, that, baleful, fly to-night.
War-hag, stands nemon, in terrific vision!
O'er woad-stained warrior, mongst the Trinobants;
Commanding show, what he of living wights,
Alone, hath known of Togodumnos' death!
Men wont to slumber: but taste Britons, yet,
No kindly rest, in camps of their caterfs;
And cause are fiends, that, baleful, fly to-night.
169
O'er woad-stained warrior, mongst the Trinobants;
Commanding show, what he of living wights,
Alone, hath known of Togodumnos' death!
He rose up, trembling, from cold dream; and drave
Him the hag-fiend, to council of the kings;
That, yet, with Caradoc, sit in Camulodunum:
For, on them, heavy is of public cares,
The weight and hourly conduct of this war.
Him the hag-fiend, to council of the kings;
That, yet, with Caradoc, sit in Camulodunum:
For, on them, heavy is of public cares,
The weight and hourly conduct of this war.
Before them standing, soon, the recreant wretch,
With faltering knees and dazing brain, at length,
Beknew the sooth of Togodumnos' death.
His neighbour Trugon had he, dying, found,
He tells, past knowing man, cast in a bush,
And heard him, (knowledging his treason,) breathe
Out last words, to the gods. He prayed those gods'
Forgiveness, which are judges of the dead!
With faltering knees and dazing brain, at length,
Beknew the sooth of Togodumnos' death.
His neighbour Trugon had he, dying, found,
He tells, past knowing man, cast in a bush,
And heard him, (knowledging his treason,) breathe
Out last words, to the gods. He prayed those gods'
Forgiveness, which are judges of the dead!
Kings feel, as a cold spear smote through their loins:
Thrice, sighed the warsire king Caratacus.
Upleapt, impetuous, Cadern's son Marunus!
And, by the throat-bole, caught, in his first heat;
Would slay, with glaive, that man of Troynovant:
But white-stoled druids did interpose their rods!
And yet gin hands slide down, of kings and lords,
Whilst fail men's hearts, to handles of their swords.
Thrice, sighed the warsire king Caratacus.
Upleapt, impetuous, Cadern's son Marunus!
And, by the throat-bole, caught, in his first heat;
Would slay, with glaive, that man of Troynovant:
But white-stoled druids did interpose their rods!
And yet gin hands slide down, of kings and lords,
Whilst fail men's hearts, to handles of their swords.
170
Those demon-hags confounded have to-night,
All divination of the land's pale druids.
Then sent Caratacus, as bade Verulam's priest,
Mempricios, for a swart-haired bull; that brought
Before them, kings and captains lay their hands,
To purge the guilt of Togodumnos' death,
Upon the victim's head, between his horns:
Which slay, on Camulus' walls, then, the king's druids.
In pan of gold, received the gurgling blood,
Mempricios touched their foreheads, all, therewith.
All divination of the land's pale druids.
Then sent Caratacus, as bade Verulam's priest,
Mempricios, for a swart-haired bull; that brought
Before them, kings and captains lay their hands,
To purge the guilt of Togodumnos' death,
Upon the victim's head, between his horns:
Which slay, on Camulus' walls, then, the king's druids.
In pan of gold, received the gurgling blood,
Mempricios touched their foreheads, all, therewith.
| The Dawn in Britain | |