Page:The princess; a medley (IA princessmedley00tennrich).pdf/127

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A MEDLEY.
119
Too hard, too cruel; yet she sees me fight,Yea, let her see me die. With that I draveAmong the thickest, and bore down a Prince,And Cyril, one; but that large-moulded manMade at me thro' the press, and staggering back With stroke on stroke the horse and horseman, came As comes a pillar of electric cloud,Flaying off the roofs and sucking up the drains,And shadowing down the champain till it strikesOn a wood, and takes, and breaks, and cracks, and splits, And twists the grain with such a roar that the Earth Reels and the herdsmen cry, for everythingGave way before him: only Florian, heThat loved me closer than his own right eye,Thrust in between; but Arac rode him down:And Cyril seeing it, push'd against the Prince,With Psyche's colour round his helmet, tough,Strong, supple, sinew-corded, apt at arms;But tougher, suppler, stronger, he that smoteAnd threw him: last I spurred; I felt my veins
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