g like him. Now, despite
Mercia that frowned, they named him king of kings,
Bretwalda; and the standard of the Seven
In peace foreran his feet. The Spirits of might
Before his vanguard winged their way in war,
Scattering the foe; and in his peacefuller years
Upon the aerial hillside high and higher
The golden harvest clomb, waving delight
On eyes upraised from winding rivers clear
That shone with milky sails. His feet stood firm,
For with his growing greatness ever grew
His penitence. Still sang the cloistered choir,
Year after year pleading o'er Oswin's tomb,
'To him who perished grant thy Vision, Lord;
To him the slayer, penitence and peace;
Let Oswin pray for Oswy:' Oswin prayed.

What answered Penda when the tidings came
Of Oswy glorying in the yoke of Christ,
Of Oswy's victories next? Grinding his teeth,
He spake what no man heard. Then rumour rose
Of demon-magic making Oswy's tongue
Fell as his sword. 'Within the sorcerer's court,'
It babbled, 'stood the brave East Saxon king:
Upon his shoulder Oswy laid a hand
Accursed and whispered in his ear. The king,
Down sank, perforce, a Christian!' Lightning flashed
From under Penda's gray and shaggy brows;--
'Forth to Northumbria, son,' he cried, 'and back;
And learn if this be true.'
That son obeyed,
Peada, to whose heart another's heart,
Alcfrid's, King Oswy's son, was knit long since
As David's unto Jonathan's. One time
A tenderer heart had leaned, or seemed to lean,
Motioning that way, Alfleda's, Alcfrid's sister,
Younger than he six years. 'Twas so no more:
No longer on Peada's eyes her eyes
Rested well-pleased: not now the fearless hand
Tarried in his contented. 'Sir and king,'
Peada thus to Oswy spake, 'of old
Thy child--then child indeed--would mount my knee;
Now, when I seek her, like a swan she fleets
That arches back its neck 'twixt snowy wings,
And, swerving, sideway drifts. My lord and king,
The child is maiden: give her me for wife!'
Oswy made answer: 'He that serves not Christ
Can wed no child of mine.' Alfleda then
Dropping her broidery lifted on her sire
Gently the dewy light of childlike eyes
And spake, 'But he in time will worship Christ!'
Then, without blush or tremor, to her work
Softly returned. Silent her