How sharp its point, how keen its edge of steel.
XXVII.
At length, no longer heedful of disguise,
Upon the opposing bank the wizard stood,
With meet compeer—both armed; their battle cries
And challenge fired brave Waban’s martial blood;
Scorning all counsel, to the marge he flies,
And shoots his arrows o’er the severing flood;
To taunts and jeers his bow alone replies,
And soon their hostile missiles span the skies.