Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore,[V]
They sank, delivered o'er
To fatal dissolution; and, I ween,
No vestige then was left that such had ever been.
Nathless, a British record (long concealed
In old Armorica, whose secret springs
No Gothic conqueror ever drank) revealed
The marvellous[42] current of forgotten things;[W]
How Brutus came, by oracles impelled,
And Albion's giants quelled,[X]