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THE PRINCESS;
 'Boys! shriek'd the old king, but vainlier than a hen To her false daughters in the pool; for none Regarded; neither seem'd there more to say:Back rode we to my father's camp, and foundHe thrice had sent a herald to the gates,To learn if Ida yet would cede our claim,Or by denial flush her babbling wellsWith her own people's life: three times he went:The first, he blew and blew, but none appear'd:He hatter'd at the doors; none came: the next,An awful voice within had warn'd him thence:The third, and those eight daughters of the plough Came sallying thro' the gates, and caught his hair,And so belabour'd him on rib and cheekThey made him wild: not less one glance he caughtThro' the open doors of Ida station'd thereUnshaken, clinging to her purpose, firmTho' compass'd by two armies and the noiseOf arms; and standing like a stately PineSet in a cataract on an island-crag,
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