Great wonder is, in Esla's gentle breast,
Who priestess, from an isle, in Gaulish seas,
Is scaped, with Cloten, now, all evil hap!
The queen, (unclothed her bosom, ivory white,)
Some birth-mark sees, neath this dear child's left pap
Much like to berry of holy misselden!
With trembling fingers, Kerriduen, queen,
Uprents her tunic, of fine lawn.  Ah, gods!
She another token finds, which, there, she sought;
Twixt Esla's gracious shoulders and white neck,
Much like to bee!  For Gaulish Gwenneth, then,
She shrilly shright; was whilom her own nurse.
That old wife cometh, soon, hipping, on her staff;
And Gwenneth wox dismayed, at this sweet sight!
So quoth, when she, again, had caught her breath;
Queen, and dear daughter, nursling of this breast,
Doubt not, thy sister's very child is this.
How is her image glassed, in this sweet face!
How yearns, beholding her, mine aged womb!
(The Dawn in Britain, Doughty, v.3, 1906).