Who had wrought havoc with the Table Round,
Glanced shattering from the sloping shield, while he,
Bent backwards o'er his saddle, rolled—his tongue
Cleft at the root. And all the walls were glad.
Now came a third: a black knight and a black
Enormous steed. No words he wasted. But,
The fierce spears splintered, from the baldrics burned
Swift blades: and Battle held his breath a while
To see the great shields rock beneath great blows,
Oppose, deploy, as hilt to hilt they hewed