The Centurion, Page 2 Of 4 Poem by John Bliven Morin

'We need, I think, no large force,
this woman to subdue;
one sturdy Roman maniple
led by the Gaul and you.'

'But you I put in charge here;
t'will please your father well;
but listen to the Gaul, boy,
experience will tell.'

'I am off to the Druid Isle,
the heart of this Albion,
with three strong legions, and return
as soon as we have won.'

Thus spake the Governor General
but a fortnight ago;
now Lucius led his men
to what he did not know.

Now they crossed a chilly stream,
Now a woods they passed.
And on a grassy hill they met
the enemy at last.

Across a small, fast-flowing stream,
upon a grassy hill,
The bold Iceni warriors stood
silent, strong and still.

The Britons stood upon the slope;
a thousand could be seen,
and in her chariot, at the head,
stood Boudicca, their queen.

Her streaming hair flew in the breeze,
as red as any flame,
and fire was in her emerald eyes
no enemy could tame.

She raised her spear above her head;
with raspy voice she called
to all her warriors standing there,
and Lucius was appalled.

Gaius the Gaul rode up beside,
'Lord, we should retreat!
Back up the hill we can dig in
and there these tribesmen meet.'