Then through the glimmering gloom around
A shadowy sense of light and sound
Made, ere the proof thereof were found,
The brave blithe hearts within them bound,
⁠And 'Where,' quoth Balen, 'rides the king?'
But softer spake the seer: 'Abide,
Till hither toward your spears he ride,
Where all the narrowing woodland side
⁠Grows dense with boughs that cling.'

There in that straitening way they met
The wild Welsh host against them set,
And smote their strong king down, ere yet
His hurrying horde of spears might get
⁠Fierce vantage of them. Then the fight
Grew great and joyous as it grew,
For left and right those brethren slew,
Till all the lawn waxed red with dew
⁠More deep than dews of night.