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Angrim's portion'd wealth is thine;
HERVOR. Now, in the silence of the tomb, Dwell undisturb'd till final doom: I must tread my destin'd road, And speed me from this drear abode ; For here, as still my steps I turn, Flaky fires around me burn.
THE NORTHERN MYTHOLOGY.
By the Same.
Rulers of the North, Spirits of exalted worth; By the silence of the night, By subtle magic's secret rite; By Pèolphan murky King, Master of th’ enchanted ring ; By all and each of hell's grim host, Howling demon, tortur'd ghost; By each spell and potent word Burst from lips of Glauron's Lord; By Coronzon's awful power; By the dread and solemn hour, When Gual fierce, and Damael strong, Stride the blast that roars along; Or, in fell descending swoop, Bid the furious spirit stoop
O'er desolation's gloomy plain,
Mark the sable feline coat, Spotted girdle velvet-wrought; Mark the skin of glistening snake, Sleeping seiz'd in forest brake; Mark the radiant crystal stone, On which days Sovereign never shone, From the cavern dark and deep Digg’d i' th' hour of mortal sleep; Mark the cross, in mystic round Meetly o'er the sandal bound, And the symbols gravid thereon, Holiest Tetragrammaton! Now while midnight torches gleam, Rivals of the Moon's pale beam, On ocean's unfrequented shore Some moss-grown ruin silvering o'er. While the flame of resinous fire Mounts aloft in curling spire; I scatter round this charmed room, The fragrance of the myrrh's perfume ; And, bending o'er this consecrated sword, Confirm each murmur'd spell, each inly-thril
CAROUSAL OF ODIN.
BY THE REV. THOMAS PENROSE.
Fill the honey'd bev'rage high,
The portal hinges grate,--they come-
With helm and morion, targe and shield,
The feast begins, the scull goes round,
The gust of war subsides—E'en now The grim chiefcurls his cheek, and smooths his rugged
“ Shame to your placid front, ye men of death!”
To the inactive rev'ling Champion's name. « Call forth the song,” she scream'd ;-the minstrels
The theme was glorious war, the dear delight
“ Joy to the soul,” the Harpers sung,
« Of the bold determin'd host!" With greedy ears the guests each note devour'd, Each struck his beaver down, and grasp'd his faith
“ Joy to the soul ! a joy divine !