ith a crouch) to veil unto their pride.
When Wrekin, as a hill his proper worth that knew,
And understood from whence their insolency grew,
For all that they appear'd so terrible in sight,
Yet would not once forego a jot that was his right,
And when they star'd on him, to them the like he gave,
And answer'd glance for glance, and brave for brave:
That, when some other hills which English dwellers were,
The lusty Wrekin saw himself so well to bear
Against the Cambrian part, respectless of their power;
His eminent disgrace expecting every hour
Those flatterers that before (with many cheerful look)
Had grac'd his goodly sight, him utterly forsook,
And muffled them in clouds, like mourners veiled in black,
Which of their utmost hope attend the ruinous wrack:
That those delicious nymphs, fair Team and Rodon clear
(Two brooks of him belov'd, and two that held him dear;
He, having none but them, they having none but he
Which to their mutual joy might either's object be)
Within their secret breast conceived sundry fears,
And as they mix'd their streams, for him so mix'd their tears.
Whom, in their coming down, when plainly he discerns,
For them his nobler heart in his strong bosom yearns:
But, constantly resolv'd, that dearer if they were
The Britons should not yet all from the English bear;
'Therefore,' quoth he, 'brave flood, tho' forth by Cambria brought,
Yet as fair England's friend, or mine thou would'st be thought
(O Severn) let thine ear my just defence partake.'"

Happy phrases abound, and, moreover, every now and then there are set
pieces, as they may be called, of fanciful description which are full of
beauty; for Drayton (a not very usual thing in a man of such unflagging
industry, and even excellence of work) was full of fancy. The fairy poem of
_Nymphidia_ is one of the most graceful trifles in the language, possessing
a dancing movement and a felicitous choice of imagery and language which
triumphantly avoid the trivial on the one hand, and the obviously burlesque
on the other. The singular satirical or quasi-satirical poems of _The
Mooncalf_, _The Owl_, and _The Man in the Moon_, show a faculty of comic
treatment less graceful indeed, but scarcely inferior, and the lyrics
called _Odes_ (of which the _Ballad of Agincourt_ is sometimes classed as
one) exhibit a command of lyric metre hardly inferior to the