Till when the dove had left, to guide, her lord, 57 It caught the white plumes glancing where they went; High in large circles to its height it soar'd, Swoop'd;--the light pinion foil'd the fierce descent; The falcon rose rebounding to the prey; And closed escape--confronting still the way. In vain the dove to Arthur seeks to flee; 58 Round her and round, with every sweep more near, The swift destroyer circles rapidly, Fixing keen eyes that fascinate with fear, A moment--and a shaft, than wing more fleet, Hurls the pierced falcon at the Saxon's feet. Down heavily it fell;--a moment stirr'd 59 Its fluttering plumes, and roll'd its glazing eye; But ev'n before the breath forsook the bird, Ev'n while the arrow whistled through the sky, Rush'd from the grove which screen'd the marksman's hand, With yell and whoop, a wild barbarian band-- Half clad, with hides of beast, and shields of horn, 60 And huge clubs cloven from the knotted pine; And spears like those by Thor's great children borne, When Caesar bridged with marching[4] steel the Rhine, Countless they start, as if from every tree Had sprung the uncouth defending deity; They pass the King, low bending as they pass; 61 Bear back the startled Harold on their way; And roaring onward, mass succeeding mass, Snatch the hemm'd Saxons from the King's survey. On Arthur's crest the dove refolds its wing; On Arthur's ear a voice comes murmuring,-- "Man, have I served thy God?" and Arthur saw 62 The priest beside him, leaning on his bow; "Not till, in all, thou hast fulfill'd the law-- Thou hast saved the friend--now aid to shield the foe;" And as a ship, cleaving the sever'd tides, Right through the sea of spears the hero rides. The wild troop part submissive as he goes; 63 Where, like an islet in that stormy main, Gleam'd Mercia's steel; and like a rock arose, Breasting the breakers, the undaunted Thane; He doff'd his helmet, look'd majestic round; And dropp'd the murderous weapon on the ground; And with a meek and brotherly embrace 64 Twined round the Saxon's neck the peaceful arm. Strife stood arrested--the mild kingly face, The loving gesture, like a holy charm, Thrill'd through the ranks: you might have heard a breath! So did soft Silence seem to bury Death. On the fair locks, and on the noble brow, 65 Fell the full splendour of the heavenly ray; The dove, dislodged, flew up--and rested now, Poised in the tranquil and translucent day. The calm wings seem'd to canopy the head; And from each plume a parting glory spread.