But that he dreaded the faitour Elf

Would swallow, mayhap, both steed and self;

For he wist that grinning mouth, at once,

Was equal to such a chevisaunce.

IV.

The little grey man began to lead

Away the dumb rider and his steed.

The Page now uttered a rueful cry,—

Like a craven when doomed vile death to die.

The caverned rocks, both far and near,

Repeated the terrible sounds of fear,

And the startled owls, as they prowled for prey,

Flew, with a scream, o'er the woods away.

The little man gazed on the trembling Page,

For a moment brief, with a look of rage;

But suddenly he right winsome grew,

And a volley of cachinnations flew

From his ample mouth, which, quickly after,

Awoke such peals of mountain-laughter,

That

ye

had sworn there had been a tavern

Of elfin topers in every cavern.

FRANCISCO started, and o'er the neck

Of the steed had gone,-had not a check

From the strong-armed Elf, made him retreat,

With fearful force, to his saddle-seat.

V.

But the Ladye-how brooked she this delay? With angry impatience, I grieve to say:

Yet quailed she not, when she heard that cry

Of dread, and the echoes' deep reply?

Did she not start, when the Elf gave birth,

With his hoarse, loud laugh, to the mountain-mirth? In sooth, not she!—what! quail with fear!

She had shielded the dead when the foeman's spear

Grazed her white arm, ere it drunk the blood

Of a yeoman's heart, that near her stood!

On the floating wreck of the home-bound bark

She had sate alone, when the riven dark

Vomited flames, and the raging storm

The wild waves rolled around her form;

And walked alone on the desolate shore,

When the hiss of the snake, and the tiger's roar, Greeted her ears, at the close of day;

And yet her soul in her bosom lay

As undismayed, as in KIRKLEES' HALL,
When guarded well with warriors tall:

For she saw the Star of her Destiny,
Shine in unsullied brilliancy,

And nought of evil, she well divined,

Could e'er betide her, while thus it shined.
And now what was it her heart could move

To dread of ill, with yon star above

Still bright-ah, no! it is not bright,
As it was wont to be, to-night.

Some cloud, I ween, but o'er it swims,

And its radiance for a moment dims.

So thought the Ladye, and urged her steed

Towards the spot from whence she heard proceed

Those sudden sounds:-FRANCISCO heard

The light hoof beat the ground-but a word

He dared not utter,-lest he should be
Placed in more rueful jeopardy!

Half round, he turned by stealth, his head,
But kept one eye on the thing of dread, t
That speedily waddled along by his side;
And, with the other, he soon espied,

With a thrill of joy, his Ladye kind,

On her snow-white barb, a few roods behind.

His blood, which had forsook his frame,

With strong and refluent current came.—

A craven he!-he crouch to one,

Whom he scorned in his soul to look upon!

Saint George forefend!—“Foul caitiff, tell
Where lies the road to the Wizard's cell?" o

The Elf looked up with a fierce grimace,
And a sullen growl, in the Page's face;

And then retreating a step or two,

Meet spring to gain, like a bolt he flew,

And mounted the fear-chilled Squire behind, Stiffly erect, as if the wind,

O'er the northern hills that howling came,

To a pillar of ice had changed his frame.

Him, with one arm, the Elf clasped round,
And with the other the reins he found;
And, spurring with all his might, the steed
He soon urged on to its fleetest speed.
The Page gave mouth to his fright and pain;
But the little grey man only laughed again.

VI.

Away, and away, through forest dun,

Through brake, o'er fell they hurry on;

And the Ladye, undaunted, pursues their way

Her fate impelled, and she must obey!

Ere long, through the opening boughs of the trees,

A towering, dark grey rock she sees,

Whose rugged top, with moss o'ergrown,

In the mellow beams of the young moon shone:
And she heard—but it did not her soul appal—

The dash of waters, from fall to fall,

And a fearful shriek, and a laugh so loud,

That it seemed the burst of a thunder-cloud!