BOOK THE SEVENTH.
251
Now as he marks the Earl's descending stroke 585
Bending, anon more fierce in swift attack.
Ill-fated man! one deed of glory more
Shall with the short-lived lightning's splendor grace
This thy death-day; for Slaughter even now
Stands o'er the loom of life, and lifts his sword. 590
Bending, anon more fierce in swift attack.
Ill-fated man! one deed of glory more
Shall with the short-lived lightning's splendor grace
This thy death-day; for Slaughter even now
Stands o'er the loom of life, and lifts his sword. 590
Upon her shield the Martial Maiden bore
An English warrior's blow, and in his side
Pierced him: that instant Salisbury speeds his sword
That glancing from her helm fell on the folds
That arm'd her neck, and making there its way, 595
Stain'd with her blood its edge. The Herald saw,
He saw her red blood gushing from the wound,
And turn'd from Talbot heedless of himself,
And lifting up his falchion, all his force
Concenter'd. On the breast of Salisbury 600
It fell, and pierced his mail, and thro' the plate
Beneath drove fierce, and in his heart's-blood plunged.
Lo! as he struck the strength of Talbot came:
An English warrior's blow, and in his side
Pierced him: that instant Salisbury speeds his sword
That glancing from her helm fell on the folds
That arm'd her neck, and making there its way, 595
Stain'd with her blood its edge. The Herald saw,
He saw her red blood gushing from the wound,
And turn'd from Talbot heedless of himself,
And lifting up his falchion, all his force
Concenter'd. On the breast of Salisbury 600
It fell, and pierced his mail, and thro' the plate
Beneath drove fierce, and in his heart's-blood plunged.
Lo! as he struck the strength of Talbot came:
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