Saw me, and crowed me greeting,

As I stooped down to touch my weeping mother,

Who, turning suddenly,

With wild tear-fevered eyes;

Arose with whispered warning;

But, even then, too late.

Already, from behind,

Around my throat

An arm was flung;

And heavily I fell:

Yet, with a desperate wrench,

I slipped the clutch of my assailant:

And picking up a slingstone that lay handy,

I crashed it through his helm;

And dead he dropped.

And now upon me all his fellows thronged,

Like hounds about an antelope;

And gripped my naked limbs,

And dragged me down,

A struggling beast, among them:

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