Chapter XXXIII

So spake Canonicus, the wise and old,--
While shouts on shouts a full accordance shewed,--
Then turned and sought the late forsaken hold;
Our Sire, the matron, and her charge pursued;
The ready tribes, behind them forming, rolled
In march triumphant onward through the wood,
Cheering the exile’s home; and as they sped,
Earth rumbled under their far-thundering tread.