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No tree, whose braunches did not bravely spring;
no braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sitt;
no bird, but did her shrill notes sweetly sing;
no song, but did containe a lovely ditt.
Trees, braunches, birds, and songs, were framéd fitt
for to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease.
Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake witt

was overcome of thing that did him please;
so pleased did his wrathfull purpose faire appease.

E. SPENSER

1250

THE ENCOUNTER BETWEEN ARTEGILL AND

RADIGUND

THE
"HE trumpets sounded, and the field began;

with bitter stroke it both began and ended.
She at the first encounter on him ran,
with furious rage, as if she had intended
out of his breast the very heart have rended;
but he, that had like tempests often tride,
from the first flaw himselfe right well defended.

The more she raged, the more he did abide; she hewd, she foynd, she lasht, she laid on every side.

Yet still her blows he bore, and her forbore
weening at last to win advantage new;
yet still her crueltie increaséd more
and, though powre faild, her courage did accrew;
which fayling, he gan fiercely her pursew:
like as a smith, that to his cunning feat
the stubborne' metall seeketh to subdew,

soon as he feells it mollifide with heat,
with his great yron sledge doth strongly on it beat.

E. SPENSER

ARTEGALL DISARMS RADIGUND

HA

1251

AVING her thus disarméd of her shield,

upon her helmet he againe her strooke,
that downe she fell upon the grassie field
in sencelesse swoune, as if her life sooke,
and pangs of death her spirit overtooke:
whom when he saw before his foote prostrated,
he to her lept with deadly dreadfull looke,

and her sun-shynie helmet soone unlaced, thinking at once both head and helmet to have raced.

But, when as he discovered had her face,
he saw, his senses straunge astonishment,
a miracle of natures goodly grace
in her faire visage voide of ornament,
but bathed in blood and sweat together ment;
which, in the rudenesse of that evill plight,
bewrayd the signes of feature excellent:

like as the moone, in foggie winters night, doth seeme to be herselfe, though darkned be her light.

At sight thereof his cruell minded hart
empiercéd was with pittifull regard,
that his sharpe sword he threw from him apart,
cursing his hand that had that visage mard:
no hand so cruell, nor no hart so hard,
but ruth of beautie will it mollifie.
By this, upstarting from her swoune she star'd

a while about her with confused eye;
like one that from his dreame is wakéd suddenlye.

E. SPENSER

1252

MENINON TO ACHILLES

TOW shalt thou surely fall beneath my might,

of

Troy, boasting that thou of heroes art the chief, and froin a Nereid born; but thou to-day shalt cease thy vaunts for ever, for I spring from blest Aurora, goddess of the dawn, and me th? Hesperides, as lilies fair, reard in their bowers beside the ocean-streams. I hold thy strength in war but slight, thy birth being than mine less noble, since I know how much an heavenly goddess doth excel a Nereid of the deep. My mother gives the rosy light (a precious benefit) to Gods and men, who in the gift rejoice, but still inglorious doth thy mother sit low in the sunless caverns of the sea amid the wallowing fishes; therefore I deem her most worthless, when compared to them who tread th’Olympian floor.

A. DYCE

CLOE'S SUIT TO THENOT

SHE

1253

HEPHERD, I pray thee stay. Where hast thou

been ? Or whither goest thou ? Here be woods as green as any; air likewise as fresh and sweet as where smooth Zephyrus plays on the fleet face of the curléd streams ; with flowers as many as the young spring gives, and as choice as any; here be all new delights, cool streams and wells, arbours o’ergrown with woodbines, caves, and dells: choose where thou wilt, whilst I sit by and sing, or gather rushes, to make many a ring for thy long fingers; tell thee tales of love,how the pale Phæbe, hunting in a grove, first saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes she took eternal fire that never dies; how she convey'd him softly in a sleep, his temples bound with poppy, to the steep head of old Latmus, where she stoops each night, gilding the mountain with her brother's light, to kiss her sweetest.

J. FLETCHER

1 254

THE THREE CHAMPIONS OF ROME AGAINST

PORSENA

army,

right glorious to behold,
came flashing back the noonday light,
rank behind rank, like surges bright

of a broad sea of gold.
Four hundred trumpets sounded

a peal of warlike glee,
as that great host, with measured tread,
and spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
rolled slowly towards the bridge's head,

where stood the dauntless Three.
The Three stood calm and silent,

and looked upon the foes,
and a great shout of laughter

from all the vanguard rose:
and forth three chiefs came spurring

before that deep array;
to earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
and lifted high their shields, and flew
to win the narrow way.

T. B. MACAULAY

BUT

1255

THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE
UT I will not wrong thee, husband,

with my unavailing cries,
whilst thy cold and mangled body,

stricken by the traitor, lies;
whilst he counts the gold and glory

that this hideous night has won,
and his heart is big with triumph

at the murder he has done. Other eyes than mine shall glisten,

other hearts be rent in twain,
ere the heathbells on thy hillock

wither in the autumn rain.
Then I'll seek thee where thou sleepest,

and I'll veil my weary head,
praying for a place beside thee,

dearer than my bridal-bed:
and I'll give thee tears, my husband !

if the tears remain to me,
when the widows of the foemen
cry the coronach for thee!

W. S. AYTOUN

MORTE D'ARTHUR

1256

BUT:

UT, as he walked, King Arthur panted hard

like one that feels a nightmare on his bed when all the house is mute. So sighed the King, muttering and murmuring at his ear · Quick, quick! I fear it is too late, and I shall die.' But the other quickly strode from ridge to ridge clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walked, larger than human on the frozen hills. He heard the deep behind him, and a cry before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clashed his harness in the icy caves and barren chasms, and all to left and right

the bare black cliff clanged round him, as he based
his feet on juts of slippery crag that rang
sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels
and on a sudden, lo! the level lake,

and the long glories of the winter moon.
1257 Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge,

dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern,
beneath them; and descending they were ware
that all the decks were dense with stately forms
black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream-by these
three Queens with crowns of gold-and from them rose
a cry that shivered to the tingling stars,
and, as it were one voice, an agony
of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills
all night in a waste land, where no one comes,

or hath come, since the making of the world. 1258 Then murmur'd Arthur, ‘Place me in the barge, and to the barge they came. There those three

Queens put forth their hands, and took the King and wept. But she, that rose the tallest of them all and fairest, laid his head upon her lap, and loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his

hands, and call’d him by his name, complaining loud, and dropping bitter tears against his brow striped with dark blood: for all his face was white and colourless, and like the wither'd moon smote by the fresh beam of the springing east: and all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops of onset; and the light and lustrous curlsthat made his forehead like a rising sun high from the däis-throne-were parch'd with dust; or, clotted into points and hanging loose, mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. So like a shatter'd column lay the King; not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, from spur to plume a star of tournament, shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and charged before the eyes of ladies and of kings.

A. TENNYSON

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