Soon, pierced by Edwy's fatal lance,
Lay valiant Turkil here;
There, Hardikanute bit the dust

Beneath Hermanrick's spear.

But vain are courage, strength and skill,
When two oppose an host!

A dart, with sure and deadly aim,
At Edwy-Hubba tost:

His sister, who o'erpowered with grief,
Had fainted on the floor,
Recovered by the matron's care,

Now sought the Abbey door.

When on the fatal carnaged spot
She cast her tearful eyes,

"O, blessed Mary!" cried the maid,

My brother-bleeds, and dies!"

Then forth she ran, and gained the pass,
Where, pressed by thronging foes,
Hermanrick stood!—the shades of death
Her brother's eyelids close!

The furious Dane no pity knew,
Nor staid his vengeful arm;

For nought availed that heavenly face,
Which might a tiger charm!

Full on the unguarded chief he rushed,
And bore him to the ground!
The helpless maiden's shrieks of woe
In war's loud shout are drown'd.

She saw Hermanrick's quivering lip!
She marked his rolling eye!

She fainted-fell, — before her sight
Death's visions dimly fly.

And, "O thou dear and much-loved youth!"
The' expiring virgin cried,
"Howe'er in life I wronged thy truth,
Yet true, with thee, I died!"

No more she spake.—E'en Hubba felt
The force of love sincere ;

Then first his breast confessed a sigh,
Then first his cheek a tear.

And now, "My friends! the rage of war," He call'd," awhile forbear;

And, to their mourning kindred, straight

These breathless bodies bear.

Or, fear the wrath of Powers Divine!"

He could no farther say;

But quickly, with disordered march,
Bent to his ships his way.

And now was heard Earl Osrick's horn,
Shrill sounding through the dale ;

And now was seen Lord Redwald's cross,
Red waving to the gale.

His tardy aid Earl Osrick brought
Too late, indeed, to save!

For, far beyond the' avenging sword,
The Dane now rode the wave.

Grief struck this warrior's heart, to see
In dust young Edwy's head!

And stretched by brave Hermanrick's side,
Fair Athelgiva dead!

Now, on the holy cross, he swore

A brave revenge to take

On Denmark's proud and bloody sons!

For Athelgiva's sake.

The vow, in Kenworth's glorious field,
This gallant Earl did pay;

When Alfred's better star prevailed,

And England had her day:

That day—the Dane full dearly paid
The price of lovers' blood!
That day-in Hubba's cloven helm
The Saxon jav'lin stood.

The bodies of the hapless three,
A single grave contains;
And in the choir, with dirges due,
Repose their cold remains.

Lord Ardolph, on his children's tomb,
Inscribed the' applauding verse;
And long the monks, in Gothic rhymes,
Their story did rehearse.

And often, pointing to the skies,

The cloistered maids would cry—

"To those bright realms, in bloom of youth, Did Athelgiva fly!"

EVANS.

THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.

A Northumberland Ballad.

BY BISHOP PERCY.

DARK was the night, and wild the storm,

And loud the torrent's roar;

And loud the sea was heard to dash
Against the distant shore.

Musing on man's weak hapless state,

The lonely hermit lay;

When, lo! he heard a female voice
Lament in sore dismay.

With hospitable haste he rose,

And waked his sleeping fire;
And snatching up a lighted brand,
Forth hied the reverend sire.

All sad beneath a neighbouring tree,
A beauteous maid he found;

Who beat her breast, and with her tears
Bedewed the mossy ground.

"O weep not, lady! weep not so;

Nor let vain fears alarm;

My little cell shall shelter thee,

And keep thee safe from harm."

"It is not for myself I weep,

Nor for myself I fear;

But for my dear and only friend,

Who lately left me here:

"And while some sheltering bower he sought

Within this lonely wood,

Ah! sore I fear his wandering feet

Have slipped in yonder flood."

"Oh! trust in Heaven (the Hermit said),

And to my cell repair;

Doubt not but I shall find thy friend,

And ease thee of thy care."

Then climbing up his rocky stairs,
He scales the cliff so high;
And calls aloud, and waves his light,
To guide the stranger's eye.

Among the thickets long he winds,
With careful steps and slow;
At length a voice returned his call,
Quick answering from below:

"O tell me, father, tell me true,
If you have chanced to see
A gentle maid, I lately left

Beneath some neighbouring tree :

"But I have either lost the place,
Or she hath gone astray;
And much I fear this fatal stream

Hath snatched her hence away."