With voice compos'd and look serene,
(Whilst her soft hand he press'd,)
The maid, who trembled on his arm,
Young Edwy thus address'd.
Blue gleam'd the steel in Edwy's hand,
The warrior's vest he bore:
For now the Danes, by Hubba led,
Had ravaged half the shore.
His summons at the abbey gate
The ready porter hears;