"Who, from their Syrian parent-stem, spread forth 13 Their giant roots to every farthest shore, Sires of young nations in the stormy North, And slumberous East; but most renown'd of yore In purple Tyre;--if, of PHOENICIAN race, In truth thou art,--thrice welcome to the place! "Know us as sons of that old friendly soil 14 Whose ports, perchance, yet glitter with the prows Of Punic ships, when resting from their toil In LUNA'S[3] gulf, the seabeat crews carouse. Unless in sooth (and here he sigh'd) the day Caere foretold hath come to RASENA!"[4] "Grave sir," quoth Arthur, piteously perplext, 15 "Or much--forgive me, hath my hearing err'd, Or of that People quoted in thy text, (Perish'd long since)--but dimly have I heard: Phoenicians! True, that name is found within Our scrolls;--they came to MEL YNYS for tin! "As for my race, our later bards declare 16 It springs from Brut, the famous Knight of Troy; But if Sir Hector spoke in Welsh, I ne'er Could clearly learn--meanwhile, I hear with joy, My native language (pardon the remark) Much as Noah spoke it when he left the ark. "More would my pleasure be increased to know 17 That that fair lady has your own precision In the dear music which, so long ago, We _taught_--observe, not _learn'd_ from--the Phoenician." "Speak as your fathers spoke the maiden can, O many-vowell'd, ear-afflicting man!" The priest replied. "But, ere I yet disclose 18 The bliss that Northia[5] singles for your lot, Fain would I learn what change the gods impose On the old races and their sceptres?--what The latest news from RASENA?"--"With shame I own, grave sir, I never heard that name!" The Augur stood aghast!--"O, ruthless Fates! 19 Who then rules Italy?"--"The Ostrogoth." "The Os----- the what?"--"Except the Papal states; Unless the Goth, indeed, has ravish'd both The Caesar's throne and the apostle's chair-- Spite of the Knight of Thrace,--Sir Belisair."[6] "What else the warrior nations of the earth?" 20 Groan'd the stunn'd Augur.--"Reverend sir, the Huns, Franks, Vandals, Lombards,--all have warlike worth; Nor least, I trust, old Cymri's Druid sons!" "O, Northia, Northia! and the East?"--"In peace, Under the Christian Emperor of Greece; "Whose arms of late have scourged the Paynim race, 21 And worsted Satan!"--"Satan, who is he?" Greatly the knight was shock'd in that fair place, To find such ignorance of the powers that be: So then, from Eve and Serpent he began; And sketch'd the history of the Foe of Man.