Shafts for shuttles, dipt in gore,
Shoot the trembling cords along. Sword, that once a monarch bore, Keep the tissue close and strong.
Mista black, terrific Maid,
Sangrida, and Hilda see,
Join the wayward work to aid:
"Tis the woof of victory.
Ere the ruddy sun be set,
Pikes must shiver, javelins sing, Blade with clattering buckler meet, Hauberk crash, and helmet ring.
(Weave the crimson web of war)
Let us go, and let us fly,
Where our friends the conflict share,
Where they triumph, where they die.
As the paths of fate we tread,
Wading through th' ensanguined field: Gondula, and Geira, spread
O'er the youthful king your shield.
We the reins to slaughter give,
Ours to kill, and ours to spare: Spite of danger he shall live
(Weave the crimson web of war).
They, whom once the desert-beach
Pent within its bleak domain,
Soon their ample sway shall stretch
O'er the plenty of the plain.
Low the dauntless earl is laid,
Gored with many a gaping wound: Fate demands a nobler head;
Soon a king shall bite the ground.
Long his loss shall Eirin weep,
Ne'er again his likeness see;
Long her strains in sorrow steep,
Strains of Immortality!
Horror covers all the heath,
Clouds of carnage blot the sun.
Sisters, weave the web of death;
Sisters, cease; the work is done.
Hail the task, and hail the hands!
Songs of joy and triumph sing!
Joy to the victorious bands;
Triumph to the younger king.
Mortal, thou that hear'st the tale,
Learn the tenor of our song.
Scotland, through each winding vale
Far and wide the notes prolong.
Sisters, hence with spurs of speed:
Each her thundering falchie wield;
Each bestride her sable steed:
Hurry, hurry to the field.
IX. THE DESCENT OF ODIN.*
From the Norse-Tongue.
UPROSE the King of Men with speed,
And saddled strait his coal-black steed;
Down the yawning steep he rode,
That leads to +Hela's drear abode.
Him the Dog of Darkness spied,
His shaggy throat he open'd wide,
While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd,
Foam and human gore distill'd:
Hoarse he bays with hideous din,
Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin;
And long pursues, with fruitless yell,
The Father of the powerful spell.
The original is to be found in Bortholinus, de causis contemnendæ mortis; Hafnie, 1689, quarto.
Upreis Odinn allda gautr, &c.
+ Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothic nations, consisted of nine worlds, to which were devoted all such as died of sickness, old age, or by any other means than in battle: over it presided Helá, the Goddess of Death.
Onward still his way he takes
(The groaning earth beneath him shakes),
Till full before his fearless eyes
The portals nine of hell arise.
Right against the eastern gate,
By the moss-grown pile he sate;
Where long of yore to sleep was laid
The dust of the prophetic Maid.
Facing to the northern clime,
Thrice he traced the Runic rhyme ;
Thrice pronounced, in accents dread,
The thrilling verse that wakes the dead;
Till from out the hollow ground
Slowly breathed a sullen sound.
Pr. What call unknown, what charms presume
To break the quiet of the tomb ?
Who thus afflicts my troubled sprite,
And drags me from the realms of night?
Long on these mould'ring bones have beat
The winter's snow, the summer's heat,
The drenching dews and driving rain!
Let me, let me sleep again.
Who is he, with voice unblest,
That calls me from the bed of rest?
O. A traveller, to thee unknown,
Is he that calls, a Warrior's Son.
Thou the deeds of light shalt know;
Tell me what is done below,
For whom yon glitt'ring board is spread,
Drest for whom yon golden bed.
Pr. Mantling in the goblet see
The pure bev'rage of the bee;
O'er it hangs the shield of gold;
'Tis the drink of Balder bold;
Balder's head to death is giv'n.
Pain can reach the Sons of Heav'n!
Unwilling I my lips unclose:
Leave me, leave me to repose.
O. Once again my call obey.
Prophetess, arise, and say,
What dangers Odin's child await,
Who the author of his fate."
Pr. In Hoder's hand the hero's doom:
His brother sends him to the tomb.
Now my weary lips I close:
Leave me, leave me to repose.
O. Prophetess, my spell obey,
Once again arise, and say,
Who th' avenger of his guilt,
By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt.
Pr. In the caverns of the west,
By Odin's fierce embrace comprest,
A wond'rous Boy shall Rinda bear,
Who ne'er shall comb his raven-hair,
Nor wash his visage in the stream,
Nor see the sun's departing beam;
Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile
Flaming on the fun'ral pile.
Now my weary lips I close:
Leave me, leave me to repose.
O. Yet awhile my call obey.
Prophetess, awake, and say,
What Virgins these, in speechless woe,
That bend to earth their solemn brow,
That their flaxen tresses tear,
And snowy veils, that float in air.
Tell me whence their sorrows rose:
Then I leave thee to repose.
Pr. Ha! no traveller art thou,
King of Men, I know thee now,
Mightiest of a mighty line-
0. No boding maid of skill divine
Art thou, nor prophetess of good;
But mother of the giant-brood!
Pr. Hie thee hence, and boast at home,
That never shall inquirer come
To break my iron-sleep again;
Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain.
Lok is the evil Being, who continues in chains till the Twilight of the Gods approaches, when he shall break his bonds;
Never, till substantial Night
Has reassumed her ancient right;
Till wrapp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd,
Sinks the fabric of the world.
X. THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN..
From the Welsh.
OWEN's praise demands my song,
Owen swift, and Owen strong;
Fairest flower of Roderic's stem,
+Gwyneth's shield, and Britain's gem.
He nor heaps his brooded stores,
Nor on all profusely pours;
Lord of every regal art,
Liberal hand, and open heart.
Big with hosts of mighty name,
Squadrons three against him came;
This the force of Eirin hiding,
Side by side as proudly riding,
On her shadow long and gay
Lochlin ploughs the wat'ry way;
There the Norman sails afar
Catch the winds, and join the war:
Black and huge along they sweep,
Burthens of the angry deep.
Dauntless on his native sands
The Dragon-Son of Mona stands ;
the human race, the stars, and sun, shall disappear; the earth sink in the seas, and fire consume the skies: even Odin himself and his kindred-deities shall perish. For a farther explanation of this mythology, see Introduction à l'Histoire de Dannemare, par Mons. Mallet,' 1755, quarto; or rather a translation of it, published in 1770, and entitled, Northern Antiquities, in which some mistakes in the original are judiciously corrected.
From Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welsh Poetry; London, 1764, quarto. Owen succeeded his father Griffin in the princi pality of North Wales, A. D. 1120. This battle was fought near forty years afterward."
+ North Wales.
↑ Denmark.
5 The red dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all his descendants bore on their banners.
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