A band of chiefs!--alas! how few, 45 Since but the fleeting of a day Had thinn'd it; but this wreck was true And chivalrous: upon the clay Each sate him down, all sad and mute, Beside his monarch and his steed, 50 For danger levels man and brute,[128] And all are fellows in their need. Among the rest, Mazeppa made His pillow in an old oak's shade-- Himself as rough, and scarce less old, 55 The Ukraine's hetman,[129] calm and bold. But first, outspent with his long course, The Cossack prince rubb'd down his horse, And made for him a leafy bed, And smooth'd his fetlocks and his mane, 60 And slack'd his girth, and stripp'd his rein, And joy'd to see how well he fed; For until now he had the dread His wearied courser might refuse To browse beneath the midnight dews: 65 But he was hardy as his lord, And little cared for bed and board; But spirited and docile too; Whate'er was to be done, would do. Shaggy and swift, and strong of limb, 70 All Tartar-like he carried him; Obey'd his voice, and came to call, And knew him in the midst of all: Though thousands were around,--and Night, Without a star, pursued her flight,-- 75 That steed from sunset until dawn His chief would follow like a fawn. IV