And strutting round with horrid stare,
Breath’d terror to the Brocks[12].
But Robert Rutter drew his sword,
And rushing forward right,
The horrid creature’s thrapple gor’d,
And barr’d his rueful spite:
Then stretching forth his brawny arm,
To drag him to the stream,
He grappled grizzle, rough and warm,
Which rouz’d him from his dream.