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32
POETICAL
With horses and with chariots—
And all his spearmen bold,
March to the sound of mournful song,
Like clouds around him roll'd.
Gwin lifts his hand—the nations halt;
"Prepare for war," he cries—
Gordred appears!—his frowning brow
Troubles our northern skies.
The armies stand, like balances
Held in the Almighty's hand;—
"Gwin, thou hast fill'd thy measure up,
"Thou'rt swept from out the land."
And now the raging armies rush'd
Like warring mighty seas;
The Heavens are shook with roaring war,
The dust ascends the skies!
Earth smokes with blood, and groans, and shakes,
To drink her children's gore,
A sea of blood; nor can the eye
See to the trembling shore.
