What can be more perfect of its kind than the picture of the shock of a melée, when the combatants
“Closed
In conflict with the crash of shivering points,
And thunder ...
And all the plain,—brand, mace, and shaft, and shield
Shock’d, like an iron-clanging anvil banged
With hammers;”
or the picture of a fleet of glass wrecked on a reef of gold, in the lines,—
“For the fleet drew near,
Touched, clinked, and clanked, and vanished.”