He led him into Branksome hall, There only passed a load of hay. He took him to Lord David's tower, And, but that stronger spells were spread, Whate’er he did of gramarye *, Was always done maliciously. He flung the warrior on the ground, And the blood welled freshly from the wound. XII. As he repassed the outer court, He spied the fair young child at sport. He was always for ill, and never for good. * Magic. K Seemed to the boy some comrade gay; XIII. He led the boy o'er bank and fell, Had strangled him, in fiendish spleen : And also his power was limited; So he but scowled on the startled child, And darted through the forest wild; The woodland brook he bounding crossed, And laughed and shouted, "Lost! lost! lost!" XIV. Full sore amazed at the wonderous change, Glare from some thicket on his way. aye the more he sought his way, The farther still he went astray, Until he heard the mountains round Ring to the baying of a hound. XV. And hark! and hark! the deep-mouthed bark Comes nigher still, and nigher; Bursts on the path a dark blood-hound, His tawny muzzle tracked the ground, Soon as the wildered child saw he, I ween you would have seen with joy His wet cheek glowed 'twixt fear and ire ! And held his little bat on high ; So fierce he struck, the dog, afraid, At cautious distance hoarsely bayed, When dashed an archer through the glade, He drew his tough bow-string; But a rough voice cried, "Shoot not, hoy! Ho! shoot not, Edward-'tis a boy!" XVI. The speaker issued from the wood, And quelled the ban-dog's ire. Well could he hit a fallow deer With hand more true, and eye more clear, His coal-black hair, shorn round and close, Set off his sun-burned face; Old England's sign, St George's cross, His barret-cap did grace; His bugle horn hung by his side, All in a wolf-skin baldrick tied; And his short faulchion, sharp and clear, Had pierced the throat of many a deer. |