On every side the routed legions fly,
Numbers are nothing in the sight of Guy.
To him the injured made their sufferings known,
And he relieved all sorrows but his own;
Ladies who owed their freedom to his might
Were grieved to find his heart another’s right.
The brood of giants, famous in those times,
Fell by his arm, and perish’d for their crimes.
Colbrand the strong, who by the Dane was brought, 30
When he the crown of good Athelstan sought,