As each horn’d hero of the cloven hoof,
Broad-chested, and thick-neckt, and wrinkle-brow’d,
Rush’d roaring in, and tore the ground with ’s foot,
As saying, ‘Lo! this grave is yours or mine!’
While that yet nobler beast, noblest of all,
Who knights the very knighthood that he carries,
Proud in submission to a nobler will,
Spurn’d all his threats, and, touch’d by the light spur,
His rider glittering like a god aloft,
Turn’d onset into death. Fight follow’d fight,