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Tho children and devour, but now and then,
Flor own brood lost or dearl, lont her fierco tont
To human sucklings; and tho childron, lousod
In her foul den, thoro at their meat would growl,
And mock their foster-mother on four foot,
Till, straighton'd, thoy grew up to wolf-liko mon,
Worso than tho wolves. And King Loodograu
Gronu'd for the Roman legions here again,
And Cæsar's englo : thon his brother king,
Rience, assail'd him : Inst a heathen horde,
Roddening tho sun with smoko and carth with
And on tho spike that split the mother's heart
Spitting the child, brako on him, till, amazed,
Ho know not whither he should turn for aid.
But-for he heard of Arthur newly crown'd,
Tho' not without an uproar made by those
Who cried, 'Ho is not Uther's son '—the king
Sent to him, saying, 'Arise, and help us thou !
For bere between the man and beast we die.'
And Arthur yet lind done no deed of arms,
But heard the call, and came : and Guinevere
Stood by tho castlo walls to watch him pass ;
But since he neither wore on helm or shield
The golden symbol of his kiuglihood,
But rode a simple knight among his knights,
of these in richer arms than he,
She saw him not, or mark'd not, if she saw,
One among many, tho' his fuco was bare.
But Arthur, looking downward as ho past,
Felt tho light of her eyes into his life
Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and pitch'd
His tents beside the forest. And he drave
The heathen, and he slew the beast, and folld:
The forest, and let in the sun, and made
Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight;
And so return'd.
For while he linger'd there,
A doubt that ever smouldor'd in the hearts
Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm
Flash'd forth and into war : for most of these
Made head against him, crying, “Who is ho
That he should rule us ? who hath proven him
King Uther's son? for lo! we look at him,
And find por face nor bearing, limbs nor voice,
Aro like to thoso of Uther whom we know.
This is the son of Gorloïs, not the king;
This is the son of Anton, uot the king.'
And Arthur, passing thence to battle, felt
Travail, and throcs and ngonies of the life,
Desiring to be join'd with Guinevere ;
And thinking as ho rodo, Her father said
That thero betroon tho man and bcast thoy dio.
Shall I not lift her from this land of boasts
Up to my throno, and sido by sido with me ?
What happiness to reign a lonely king,
Voxt-0 yo stars that shudder over mo,
O earth that soundest hollow under me,
Vext with wasto dreams ? for saving I bo join'd
To hor that is tho fairest under heaven,
I scom as nothing in the mighty world,
And cannot will my will, nor work my
Wholly, nor mako myself in mino own realm
Victor and lorıl. But woro I join'd with hor, ,
Thou might wo livo together na ono lifo,
And reigning with ono will in ovorything
Havo power on this dark land to lightou it,
power on this dead world to make it live.