Page:Andromeda, and other poems - Kingsley (1858).djvu/168

viii.
The metal good and the walnut wood
 Did soon in flinders flee;
They tost the orts to south and north,
 And grappled knee to knee.

ix.
They wrestled up, they wrestled down,
 They wrestled still and sore;
Beneath their feet the myrtle sweet
 Was stamped to mud and gore.

x.
Ah, cold pale moon, thou cruel pale moon,
 That starest with never a frown
On all the grim and the ghastly things
 That are wrought in thorpe and town:

xi.
And yet, cold pale moon, thou cruel pale moon,
 That night hadst never the grace
To lighten two dying Christian men
 To see one another's face.