"Now, Brothers, bending o'er th' accursed loom, 95 "Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his

"Half of thy heart we confecrate. "(The web is wove.

The work is done.)" 100

Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn

• Leave me unblefs'd, unpitied, here to mourn: In yon bright track, that fires the western skies, They melt, they vanish from my eyes.

* But oh! what folemn scenes on Snowdon's height Descending flow their glittering skirts unroll?

• Vifions of glory, spare my aching fight,

Ye unborn Ages, crowd not on my soul !

'No more our long-loft Arthur we bewail,

All-hail, ye genuine Kings; Britannia's Iffue, hail!

▾ Eleanor of Caftile died a few years after the conqueft of Wales. The heroic proof she gave of her affection for her lord is well known: The monuments of his regret, and forrow for the lofs of her, are ftill to be seen at Northampton, Geddington, Waltham, and other places.

z It was the common belief of the Welch nation, that king Arthur was ftill alive in Fairy-land, and should return again to reign over Britain.

a Both Merlin and Talieffin had prophefied, that the Welch fhould regain their fovereignty over this island; which feemed to be accomplished in the house of Tudor,

III. 2.

• Girt with many a Baron bold

• Sublime their starry fronts they rear;

• And gorgeous Dames, and Statesmen old • In bearded majesty, appear.

In the midft a Form divine!

• Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line ; . Her lyon port, her awe-commanding face, • Attemper'd sweet to virgin-grace.

115

• What ftrings fymphonious tremble in the air! • What strains of vocal tranfport round her play! 120 • Hear from the grave, great Talieffin, hear;

They breathe a foul to animate thy clay.

Bright Rapture calls, and foaring, as the fings, • Waves in the eye of Heav'n her many colour'd ⚫ wings.

III. 3.

• The verse adorn again

6

Fierce War, and faithful Love,

125

Speed, relating an audience given by queen Elizabeth to Paul Dzialinfki, ambaffador of Poland, fays, ' And thus fhe, lion-like rifing, daunted the malapert orator no lefs with her stately port and majestical deporture, than with the tartneffe of her princelie checkes".

Talieffin, chief of the Bards, flourished in the VIth century. His works are ftill preserved, and his memory held in high veneration among his countrymen.

And Truth fevere, by fairy Fiction drest. • In bufkin'd measures move

Pale Grief, and pleafing Pain,

With Horror, Tyrant of the throbbing breast. 130 A Voice, as of the Cherub-Choir,

• Gales from blooming Eden bear;

• ƒ And distant warblings leffen on my ear, That loft in long futurity expire. [cloud, 135 Fond impious Man, think'ft thou, yon fanguine • Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the Orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood,

And warms the nations with redoubled ray.
Enough for me: With joy I fee

• The different doom our Fates affign.

Be thine Despair, and scept'red Care,

To triumph, and to die, are mine.'

140

He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height Deep in the roaring tide he plung'd to endless night.

d Shakespeare.

ė Milton.

The fucceffion of poets after Milton's time.

THE

FATAL SISTERS.

AN ODE.

FROM THE NORSE TONGUE. *

BY THE SAME.

Now the Storm begins to lower, (Hafte, the loom of Hell prepare,) Iron-fleet of arrowy shower

Hurtles in the darken'd air.

*To be found in the ORCADES of THORMODUS TORFÆUS; HAFNIE, 1697, folio: and also in BARTHOLINUS,

...

VITT ER ORPIT FYRIR VALFALLI, &C.

For the better underftanding this ode,' the reader is to be informed that in the eleventh century, Sigurd, earl of the Orkney-iflands, went with a fleet of fhips and a confiderable body of troops into Ireland, to the affiftance of Sitryg with the filken beard, who was then making war on his father-in-law Brian, king of Dublin: the earl and all his forces were cut to pieces; and Sitryg was in danger of a total defeat; but the enemy had a greater lofs, by the death of Brian, their king, who fell in the action. On Christmas-day, (the day of the battle,) a native of Caithness,

Glitt❜ring lances are the loom,
Where the dusky warp we ftrain,
Weaving many a Soldier's doom,
Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane.

See the griefly texture grow,
('Tis of human entrails made,)
And the weights, that play below,
Each a gasping Warrior's head.

Shafts for fhuttles, dipt in gore,

Shoot the trembling cords along.

Sword, that once a Monarch bore,

15

Keep the tiffue close and strong.

in Scotland, faw at a diftance, a number of persons on horseback, riding full speed towards a hill, and feeming to enter into it. Curiofity led him to follow them, till, looking through an opening in tne rocks, he saw twelve gigantic figures, resembling women: they were all employed about a loom; and as they wove, they fung the following dreadful fong; which, when they had finished, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped fix to the north, and as many to the fouth. Thefe were the Valkyriur, female divinities, fervants of Odin (or Woden) in the Gothic mythology. Their name fignifies Chusers of the flain. They were mounted on swift horses, with drawn fwords in their hands; and in the throng of battle felected such as were deftined to flaughter, and conducted them to 'Valhalla, the hall of Odin, or paradife of the brave; where they attended the banquet, and ferved the departed heroes with horns of mead and ale.