VIII.

I saw a river swift, whose fomy billowes Did wash the ground-work of an old great wall; I saw it cover’d all with griesly shadowes, That with black horror did the ayre appall: Thereout a strange beast with seven heads arose, That townes and castles under her brest did coure*, And seem’d both milder beasts and fiercer foes Alike with equall ravine to devoure. Much was I mazde to see this monsters kinde In hundred formes to change his fearefull hew; When as at length I saw the wrathfull winde, Which blows cold storms, burst out of Scithian mew, That sperst these cloudes; and, in so short as thought, This dreadfull shape was vanished to nought. [* _Coure_, cover.]