Page:The Golden Violet.pdf/90

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Away to silence, rang another strain, And furious spurr'd a steed across the plain, Huge like its giant rider. As he pass'd, His shadow fell, as if a storm had cast A sudden night around; grasp'd his right hand A spear, to which our youth's was but a wand; Black as his shadow on the darken'd field Was horse and armour; and his gloomy shield Was as a cloud passing before the stars. set his lance; scarcely it jars The mail'd rings of the hauberk: down he bent In time to shun the one his foeman sent; Wasting its strength it reach'd the lake beside, And like a fallen tree dash'd in the tide. Their swords are out like lightning; one whose stroke Is as the bolt that fells the forest oak,