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bole.

Flames bursting thro' the central point, illume
The dismal cavern; while from realms pro-

found
Spirits unblest arise, and wheel around
In mystic dance. There now in orgies dire,
'Gainst Britain's prince to wreak their ruthless

ire,

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can man proclaim
„the deed without a na-

me ?"

The deed, which startles e’en the fiend of

night,
At which, if acted in day's sacred light,
The fun, with horror ftruck, had backward

fled;
Or veil'd in dark’ning clouds his blazing head.

Still from the Daemons, by their potent

spell
Controlld, dark words of doubtful import fell,
Unpleasing to their ears: in wild despair
They beat their breasts, and rend their snaky

hair;
Draw from their mangled fides the gushing blood,
And sprinkle o'er the flame the purple flood;
And whilft they brave the power who rules the

skies,
Invoke their kindred fiends with fiercer cries.
Earth shakes more black the circling vapour

flows,
And the red flame with keener radiance glows.

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Sleeps vengeance then, ye fons of baleful

night,
Exclaims fierce Urda, by the lurid light
Dimly descried ; - On shame, oh dire disgrace!
Shall we be baffled by man's puny race?

Say bole.

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Say, have I weav'd in fate's 'mysterious loom
The web of Hengifts life, and stamp'd his

doom
In vain? No, yet again our knight renown'd
Shall rise, shall triumph, and his foes confound.
Spirits of night! reception due prépare:
Take him, my sisters, to your guardian.care.
His former strength renew; and thro' his loul
Bid the swoll'n tides of rage and vengeance roll.
Whare'er the impulse of his mind inspires,
Regard, nor counteract his wild desires,
But, whilft his breaft with high-wrought fury

glows,
Hurl him, like heaven's red bolt, to blast our

foes.
I breathe the scent of carnage! death pursues
His course, and royal blood his steel embrues!
Visions of keen delight! why interpose
These hared clouds, and on the prospect close ?
Sisters, rejoice! behold, enough is known -
Fate aids our will destruction is our own!“
„Receive your charge." - This said, she (wift

enshrouds
Her form of terror mid encircling clouds,
And rushing forward on the howling blast,
The groaning forest trembled as the past.

Stretch'd on his couch the Saxon monarch

lies;
The fhades of darkness swim before his eyes.
His feeble.pulse, his quick, disorder'd breath,
Appear the omens of approaching death.
But ah! not yet mus Hengist fall! – the powa

er

Of magic charms prolongs life's transient hour,
Again with vital heat his bosom glows,
And thro' his veins the genial current flows.

Awaking

hole.

Awaking from his death · like swoon, his

eyes
He wildly casts around him; whilst arise
Far different fcenes before his wond'ring view,
From those the Mule so late in terror drew.
The hags abhorr'd, and all the forins of dread,
The livid flames, and dusky 1moké was fled.
The dismal cave a lovelier form assum'd;
A stately hall with' pendant lamps illum'd.
From every side reflected lustre shines,
That mocks the fplendor of Golconda's mines.
The fapphire's blue, and topaz' golden gleams,
The ruby's glow, the crystal's liquid beams,
Mix'd with the diainond's varied

rays,

unite In glittering wreaths to captivate the fight.

A marble pillar huge, of inow-white hue,
The centre graced, and o'er the ceiling threw
Its branches wide: the pictur'd forms between,
Of vanquish'd chiefs, and conqu’ring knights were

seen;
And by them stood fair maids, their valour's pria

ze,

With plaufive smiles, and love - illumin'd eyes.

Around his couch, to fight a beauteous

band
Of gentle youths, attending spirits stand.
With notes harmonious now they footh his ear;
And now his soul with air-form'd visions cheer.

But tho', whate'er could give to trouble

ease,
Whate'er the wish could form, or fancy please,
Was there; - no joy can gloomy Hengift find;
His late disgrace weighs heavy on his mind.

Not bole.

Nor visionary scenes, nor lofty strain,
Nor splendid banquet, nor oblequious train,
Can pleasure yield; but as his might returns,
His soul with doubled indignation burns:
And the bright forms of hero's, conqueft-crown'd,
Whom captiv'd kings, and lovely maids fur.

round,
As will’d the fraudful fifters, in his heart
Implant more deeply envy's venom'd dart.

„Immortal Goddesses, *) whose guardian pow. .

er ,

In wrath he cries, o'er - watch'd my natal hour,
Inspir’d my soul, my arm with vigour strung,
When echoing fields with thouts discordant

rung
And havock reign'd, is this your guardian aid ?
The fairest kingdom, and the brighteft maid
Does Hengist thus obtain ? what boots the

mail
Impassive, if in arins and love I fail?
Thro' you, on Ligon's Isle the proffer'd fight
I fhunn'd; thro' you am deem'd & recreant

knight.
Perish the thought! a life preserv'd with shame
My foul disdains - Bc Hengift's death, or fame!“

Before his view, earth trembling wide around, Valdandi, Skulda, thro' the rifted ground

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*) Starchaterus, a Swedish Champion, seems to allude to

the influence, the fatal fisters were supposed to poffefs
at the birth of infants in the following lines :

At mihi, si recolo, nascenti FATA dedere
Bella sequi, belloque mori, miscere tumultu,
Invigilare armis, vitam exercere cruentam.

Bartholin. L. III. c. 1.

1

bole.

Arising sudden, thus the knight addrest:
„Unfold the secret wishes of thy breast.
Nor dread refusal.“ With collected mind
Firm and undaunted thus the king rejoin'd:

Ye awful powers, to whom I bend my knee,
Aught but the wretch he is, would' Hengist

be.
Would be as Arthur is, renown'd to fame,
And lov'd like him by Britain's faireft dame
But ah, how vain the thought!“ – „The thought

enjoy;
We grant thy daring wish! they · swift re-

ply;
In femblance of his radiant arms to shine;
T'assume his mien, his look, his voice, be

thine.
To guide thy course to those enchanted bow-

ers,
That hold conceal'd the beauteous maid, is ours;
But that alone

If thou successful prove,
She quit her dwelling, and repay thy love,
Then Odin's race shall fway the British thro-

ne

But know, the danger's great, th' event un.

known,
Futurity's dark vapours intervene.
Elude our sight, and blot the coming scene.“
Tho' Danger in her direst form arise,
I mock her terrors, and her frowns despise,
He (wift return'd; let Inogen be mine,
And to the winds I every doubt resign.“

Around his head their ebon wands on

high
The sisters wave, and loudly thus reply:
Such radiant arms, redoubted chief! behold,
As Britain's champion wears, thy formen-

fold;

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