And follow with his step the stream that flow'd,
As if even yet too much its surface show'd:
At once he started, stoop'd, around him strown
The winter floods had scatter'd heaps of stone;
Of these the heaviest thence he gathered there, 1219
And slung them with a more than common care.
Mean time the Serf had crept to where unseen
Himself might safely mark what this might mean
He caught a glimpse, as of a floating breast,
And something glittered starlike on the vest,
But ere he well could mark the buoyant trunk,
A massy fragment smote it, and it sunk :
It rose again but indistinct to view,
And left the waters a purple hue,
Then deeply disappear'd: the horseman gaz'd
Till ebbed the latest eddy it had rais'd ; 1230
Then turning, vaulted on his pawing steed,
And instant spurr'd him into panting speed.
His face was mask'd-the features of the dead,
If dead it were, escaped the observer's dread;
But if in sooth a star its bosom bore,
Such is the badge that knighthood ever wore,
And such 'tis known Sir Ezzelin had worn
Upon the night that led to such a morn.