The lives of infants, mother, and of sire,
And the fair fame that crowns a distant day.
Soon closed the champions by the glimmering fire,
Limbs locked in limbs in terrible affray;
They writhe—they wrench—they stagger to and fro,
Hands grasping hands that aim the fatal blow.
LIII.
Now struggling by the flames they past from sight,
For Williams lingered yet to guard the cave;