STRUGGLE OF THE BRITONS AGAINST THE BARBARIANS

By William Wordsworth

Rise!— they have risen: of brave Aneurin ask

How they have scourged old foes, perfidious friends:

The Spirit of Caractacus descends

Upon the Patriots, animates their task;

Amazement runs before the towering casque

Of Arthur, bearing through the stormy field

The Virgin sculptured on his Christian shield:—

Stretched in the sunny light of victory bask

The Host that followed Urienas he strode

O'er heaps of slain;— from Cambrian wood and moss

Druids descend, auxiliars of the Cross;

Bards, nursed on blue Plinlimmon's still abode,

Rush on the fight, to harps preferring swords,

And everlasting deeds to burning words!