"All to the awful life was done-- The very hue, so ghastly, won-- The grey, dull tint:--the labour ceased, It stood--half reptile and half beast! And now began the mimic chase; Two dogs I sought, of noblest race, Fierce, nimble, fleet, and wont to scorn The wild bull's wrath and levell'd horn; These, docile to my cheering cry, I train'd to bound, and rend, and spring, Now round the Monster-shape to fly, Now to the Monster-shape to cling! "And where their gripe the best assails, The belly left unsheath'd in scales, I taught the dexterous hounds to hang And find the spot to fix the fang; Whilst I, with lance and mailèd garb, Launch'd on the beast mine Arab barb. From purest race that Arab came, And steeds, like men, are fired by fame. Beneath the spur he chafes to rage; Onwards we ride in full career-- I seem, in truth, the war to wage-- The monster reels beneath my spear! "Albeit, when first the _destrier_[9] eyed The laidly thing, it swerved aside, Snorted and rear'd--and even they, The fierce hounds, shrank with startled bay; I ceased not, till, by custom bold, After three tedious moons were told, Both barb and hounds were train'd--nay, more, Fierce for the fight--then left the shore! Three days have fleeted since I prest (Return'd at length) this welcome soil, Nor once would lay my limbs to rest, Till wrought the glorious crowning toil. "For much it moved my soul to know The unslack'ning curse of that grim foe. Fresh rent, mens' bones lay bleach'd and bare Around the hell-worm's swampy lair; And pity nerved me into steel:-- Advice?--I had a heart to feel, And strength to dare! So, to the deed.-- I call'd my squires--bestrode my steed, And with my stalwart hounds, and by Lone secret paths, we gaily go Unseen--at least by human eye-- Against a worse than human foe! "Thou know'st the sharp rock--steep and hoar?-- The abyss?--the chapel glimmering o'er? Built by the Fearless Master's hand, The fane looks down on all the land. Humble and mean that house of prayer-- Yet God hath shrined a wonder there:-- Mother and Child, to whom of old The Three Kings knelt with gifts, behold! By three times thirty steps, the shrine The pilgrim gains--and faint, and dim, And dizzy with the height, divine Strength on the sudden springs to him!