When winter yelled through the leafless grove; when the black waves
rode over the roaring winds, and the dark-brown clouds hid the face of
the sun; when the silver brook stood still, and snow environed the top
of the lofty mountain; when the flowers appeared not in the blasted
fields, and the boughs of the leafless trees bent with the loads of
ice; when the howling of the wolf affrighted the darkly glimmering
light of the western sky; Kenrick, terrible as the tempest, young as
the snake of the valley, strong as the mountain of the slain; his
armour shining like the stars in the dark night, when the moon is
veiled in sable, and the blasting winds howl over the wide plain; his
shield like the black rock, prepared himself for war.
Ceolwolf of the high mountain, who viewed the first rays of the
morning star, swift as the flying deer, strong as the young oak,
fierce as an evening wolf, drew his sword; glittering like the blue
vapours in the valley of Horso; terrible as the red lightning,
bursting from the dark-brown clouds; his swift bark rode over the
foaming waves, like the wind in the tempest; the arches fell at his
blow, and he wrapped the towers in flames: he followed Kenrick, like
a wolf roaming for prey.
Centwin of the vale arose, he seized the massy spear; terrible was his
voice, great was his strength; he hurled the rocks into the sea, and
broke the strong oaks of the forest. Slow in the race as the minutes
of impatience. His spear, like the fury of a thunderbolt, swept down
whole armies; his enemies melted before him, like the stones of hail
at the approach of the sun.
Awake, O Eldulph! thou that sleepest on the white mountain, with the
fairest of women. No more pursue the dark-brown wolf: arise from the
mossy bank of the falling waters; let thy garments be stained in
blood, and the streams of life discolour thy girdle; let thy flowing
hair be hid in a helmet, and thy beauteous countenance be writhed into
terror.
Egward, keeper of the barks, arise like the roaring waves of the sea:
pursue the black companies of the enemy.
Ye Saxons, who live in the air and glide over the stars, act like
yourselves.
Like the murmuring voice of the Severn, swelled with rain, the Saxons
moved along; like a blazing star the sword of Kenrick shone among the
Britons; Tenyan bled at his feet; like the red lightning of heaven he
burnt up the ranks of his enemy.
Centwin raged like a wild boar. Tatward sported in blood; armies
melted at his stroke. Eldulph was a flaming vapour; destruction sat
upon his sword. Ceolwolf was drenched in gore, but fell like a rock
before the sword of Mervin.
Egward pursued the slayer of his friend; the blood of Mervin smoked on
his hand.
Like the rage of a tempest was the noise of the battle; like the
roaring of the torrent, gushing from the brow of the lofty mountain.
The Britons fled, like a black cloud dropping hail, flying before the
howling winds.
Ye virgins! arise and welcome back the pursuers; deck their brows with
chaplets of jewels; spread the branches of the oak beneath their feet.
Kenrick is returned from the war, the clotted gore hangs terrible upon
his crooked sword, like the noxious vapours on the black rock; his
knees are red with the gore of the foe.
Ye sons of the song, sound the instruments of music; ye virgins, dance
around him.
Costan of the lake, arise, take thy harp from the willow, sing the
praise of Kenrick, to the sweet sound of the white waves sinking to
the foundation of the black rock.
Rejoice, O ye Saxons! Kenrick is victorious.