Him griped athwart, he, in impetuous mood, Would now push from him, now would closely strain;
And waxed so wroth that, in his heat of blood, The Tartar little thought about his rein.
Firm in his stirrups self-collected stood Roland, and watched his vantage to obtain;
He to the other courser's forehead slipt His wary hand, and thence the bridle stript.