Green with the verdure of the new-born year;
Crash follows crash.—“Are these approaching foes?
Do one or more their march thus pioneer?”
No answer Waban made, but seemed to shrink
Among the vines along the rock’s dark brink.
XLIII.
A moment more, and, bounding o’er the hedge,
A monster trotted tow’rd the mounting flame;
Then turned and bayed;—’twere doubtful to allege
Dog, fox, or wolf, his aspect best became;