Englysh Metamorphosis

BOOKE st.
WHANNE Scythyannes, salvage as the wolves theie chacde,
Peyncted in horrowe  formes bie nature dyghte,
Heckled  yn beastskyns, slepte uponne the waste,
And wyth the morneynge rouzed the wolfe to fyghte,
Swefte as descendeynge lemes  of roddie lyghte
Plonged to the hulstred  bedde of laveynge seas,
Gerd  the blacke mountayn okes yn drybblets  twighte
And ranne yn thoughte alonge the azure mees,
Whole eyne dyd feerie fheene, like blue-hayred defs ,
That dreerie hange upon Dover's emblaunched  clefs. 
Soft boundeynge over swelleynge azure reles
The salvage natyves sawe a shyppe appere;
An uncouthe  denwere  to theire bosomme steles;
Theyre myghte ys knopped  ynne the froste of fere.
The headed javlyn lisseth  here and there;
Theie stonde, theie ronne, theie loke wyth eger eyne;
The shyppes sayle, boleynge  wythe the kyndelie ayre,
Ronneth to harbour from the beateynge bryne;
Theie dryve awaie aghaste, whanne to the stronde
A burled  Trojan lepes, wythe Morglaien sweerde yn honde. 
Hymme followede eftsoones hys compheeres , whose swerdes
Glestred lyke gledeynge  starres ynne frostie nete,
Hayleynge theyre capytayne in chirckynge  wordes
Kynge of the lande, whereon theie set theyre sete.
The greete kynge Brutus thanne theie dyd hym greete,
Prepared for battle, mareschalled the fyghte;
Theie urg'd the warre, the natyves sledde, as flete
As sleaynge cloudes that swymme before the fyghte;
Tyll tyred with battles, for to ceese the fraie,
Theie uncted  Brutus kynge, and gave the Trojans swaie. 
Twayne of twelve years han lemed  up the myndes,
Leggende  the salvage unthewes  of theire breste,
Improved in mysterk  warre, and lymmed  theyr kyndes,
Whenne Brute from Brutons sonke to æterne reste.
Eftsoons the gentle Locryne was possest
Of swaie, and vested yn the paramente ;
Halceld  the bykrous  Huns, who dyd infeste
Hys wakeynge kyngdom wyth a foule intente;
As hys broade swerde oer Homberres heade was honge,
He tourned toe ryver wyde, and roarynge rolled alonge. 
He wedded Gendolyne of roieal sede,
Upon whose countenance rodde healthe was spreade;
Bloushing, alyche  the scarlette of herr wede,
She sonke to pleasaunce on the marryage bedde.
Eftsoons her peacefull joie of mynde was fledde;
Elstrid ametten with the kynge Locryne;
Unnombered beauties were upon her shedde,
Moche fyne, moche fayrer thanne was Gendolyne;
The mornynge tynge, the rose, the lillie floure,
In ever ronneynge race on her dyd peyncte theyr powere. 
The gentle suyte of Locryne gayned her love;
Theie lyved soft momentes to a swotie  age;
Eft  wandringe yn the coppyce, delle, and grove,
Where ne one eyne mote theyre disporte engage;
There dydde theie tell the merrie lovynge fage , 
Croppe the prymrosen floure to decke theyre headde;
The feerie Gendolyne yn woman rage
Gemoted  warriours to bewrecke  her bedde;
Theie rose; ynne battle was greete Locryne sleene;
The faire Elstrida fledde from the enchafed  queene. 
A tye of love, a dawter fayre she hanne,
Whose boddeynge morneyng shewed a fayre daie,
Her fadre Locrynne, once an hallie manne.
Wyth the fayre dawterre dydde she haste awaie,
To where the Western mittee  pyles of claie
Arise ynto the cloudes, and doe them beere;
There dyd Elstrida and Sabryna staie;
The fyrste tryckde out a whyle yn warryours gratch  and gear;
Vyncente was she ycleped, butte fulle soone fate
Sente deathe, to telle the dame, she was notte yn regrate .
The queene Gendolyne sente a gyaunte knyghte,
Whose doughtie heade swepte the emmertleynge  skies,
To slea her wheresoever she shulde be pyghte ,
Eke everychone who shulde her ele  emprize .
Swefte as the roareynge wyndes the gyaunte flies,
Stayde the loude wyndes, and shaded reaulmes yn nyghte,
Stepte over cytties, on meint  acres lies,
Meeteynge the herehaughtes of morneynge lighte;
Tyll mooveynge to the Weste, myschaunce hys gye ,
He thorowe warriours gratch fayre Elstrid did espie. 
He tore a ragged mountayne from the grounde,
Harried  uppe noddynge forrests to the tide,
Thanne wythe a fuirie, mote the erthe astounde ,
To meddle ayre he lette the mountayne flie,
The flying wolfynnes sente a yelleynge crie;
Onne Vyncente and Sabryna felle the mount;
To lyve æternalle dyd theie eftsoones die;
Thorowe the sandie grave boiled up the pourple founte,
On a broade grassie playne was layde the hylle,
Staieynge the rounynge course of meint a limmed  rylle. 
The goddes, who kenned the actyons of the wyghte,
To leggen  the sadde happe of twayne so fayre,
Houton  dyd make the mountaine bie theire mighte.
Forth from Sabryna ran a ryverre cleere,
Roarynge and rolleynge on yn course bysmare
From female Vyncente shotte a ridge of stones,
Eche syde the ryver rysynge heavenwere;
Sabrynas floode was helde ynne Elstryds bones.
So are theie cleped; gentle and the hynde
Can telle, that Severnes streeme bie Vyncentes rocke's ywrynde .
The bawsyn  gyaunt, hee who dyd them slee, 
To telle Gendolyne quycklie was ysped ;
Whanne, as he strod alonge the shakeynge lee,
The roddie levynne  glesterrd on hys headde:
Into hys hearte the azure vapoures spreade;
He wrythde arounde yn drearie dernie  payne;
Whanne from his lyfe-bloode the rodde lemes  were fed,
He felle an hepe of ashes on the playne.
Stylle does hys ashes shoote ynto the lyghte,
A wondrous mountayne hie, and Snowdon ys ytte hyghte.