Note 140 — Chapter III
Reading edition
“Not half so gorgeous, for their May-day mirth All wreathed and ribanded, our youths and maids, As these stern Tlascalans in war attire! The golden glitterance, and the feather-mail More gay than glittering gold; and round the helm A coronal of high upstanding plumes, Green as the spring grass in a sunny shower; Or scarlet bright, as in the wintry wood The clustered holly; or of purple tint; Whereto shall that be likened? to what gem Indiademed, what flower, what insect’s wing? With war-songs and wild music they came on; We, the while kneeling, raised with one accord The hymn of supplication.” Southey’s Madoc, Part 1, canto 7.