17
From the rugged rocky fortress.
Flails for weapons, lo! they bear,
And they pour upon the foemen.
Benesh, Benesh is the first;
Full of courage and of fury,
All advance—they cry "revenge!
Vengeance on our land-destroyers!
Vengeance on the saxon race!"
Vengeance bursts from either army,
Vengeance and the fiercest rage;
Vengeance glows in every bosom,
Vengeance reddens every eye.
Each the other wildly threatening,
Raging—mingling each with each,
Clubs o'er rival clubs are towering,
Spears are rising over spears—
And they crash 'gainst one another
As if warlike forests crashed—
As the lightning of heaven's thunder
Was the lightning of their swords.
Fearful sounds and frightful voices
Scared the deer into the woods,
