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From Teivi, fring'd with umbrage brown,
From Elvy's vale, and Cader's crown,
From many a shaggy precipice
That shades Ierne's hoarse abyss,
And mary a sunless solitude
Of Radnor's inmost mountains rude,)
To crown the banquet's solemn close,
Themes of British glory chose;
And to the strings of various chime
Attemper'd thus the fabling rhyme.

« O’er Cornwall's cliffs the tempest roar'd,
“ High the screaming sea-mew soar'd;
“ On Tintaggel's topmost tower
" Darksome fell the sleety shower ;
“ Round the rough castle shrilly sung
“ The whirling blast, and wildly flung
“ On each tall rampart's thundering side
The surges of the tumbling tide:
" When Arthur rang’d his red-cross ranks
“ On Conscious Camlan's crimson'd banks :
By Mordred's faithless guile decreed
* Beneath a Saxon spear to bleed I
“ Yet in vain a paynim foe
“ Arm’d with fate the mighty blow;
« For when he fell, an elfin queen,
“ All in secret, and unseen,
“ O'er the fainting hero threw
“ Her mantle of ambrosial blue;
“ And bade her spirits bear him far,

“ In Merlin's agate-axled car, Vol. XIII.


“ To her green isle’s enameld steep,
“ Far in the navel of the deep.
"O'er his wounds she sprinkled dew
“ From flowers that in Arabia grew :
« On a rich enchanted bed,
“ She pillow'd his majestic head ;
« O’er his brow, with whispers bland,
“ Thrice she wavid an opiate wand ;
" And to soft music's airy sound,
“ Her magic curtains clos'd around.
« There, renew'd the vital spring,
“ Again he reigns a mighty king;
“ And many a fair and fragrant clime,
“ Blooming in immortal prime,

By gales of Eden ever fann'd,
“ Owns the monarch's high command :
6 Thence to Britain shall return,

(if right prophetic rolls I learn) " Borne on Victory's spreading plume, “ His antieni sceptre to resume ; « Once more in old heroic pride, “ His barbed courser to bestride; “ His knightly table to restore, " And the brave tournaments of yore."

They ceas’d: when on the tuneful stage Advanc'd a bard, of aspect sage; His silver tresses, thin besprent, To age a graceful reverence lent; His beard, all white as spangles frore That clothe Plinlimmon's forests hoar,

Down to his harp descending flow?d;
With Time's faint rose his features glow'd;
His eyes diffus’d a soften'd fire,
And thus he wak’d the warbling wire:

Listen, Henry, to my read! " Not from fairy realms I lead “ Bright-rob’d Tradition, to relate In forged colours Arthur's fate ; “ Though much of old romantic lore « On the high theme I keep in store : “ But boastful Fiction should be dumb, “ Where Truth the strain might best become. “ If thine ear may still be won “ With songs of Uther's glorious son; “ Henry, I a tale unfold, “ Never yet in rhyme enrolld, “ Nor sung nor harp'd in hall or bower; « Which in my youth's full early flower, A minstrel, sprung of Cornish line, “ Who spoke of kings from old Locrine, “ Taught me to chant, one vernal dawn, “ Deep in' a cliff-encircled lawn, “ What time the glistening vapours

fled * From cloud-envelop'd Clyder's head; " And on its sides the torrents grey “ Shone to the morning's orient ray.

“ When Arthur bow'd his haughty crest, “ No princess, veil'd in azure vest, “ Snatcht him, by Merlin's potent spell,

groves of golden bliss to dwell ;

" In

“ Where, crown'd with wreaths of misletoe, “ Slaughter'd kings in glory go: “ But when he fell, with winged speed, “ His champions, on a milk-white steed, “ From the battle's hurricane, “ Bore him to Joseph's towered fane, “ In the fair vale of Avalon : “ There, with chanted orison, “ And the long blaze of tapers clear, " The stoled fathers met the bier ; “ Through the dim iles, in order dread

Of martial woe, the chief they led, “ And deep intomb'd in holy ground, « Before the altar's solemn bound. “ Around no dusky banners wave, “ No mouldering trophies mark the grave : “ Away the Ruthless Dane has torn “ Each trace that Time's slow touch had worn; “ And long, o'er the neglected stone, “ Oblivion's veil its shade has thrown: “ The faded tomb, with honour due, “ 'Tis thine, O Henry, to renew ! “ Thither, when Conquest has restor'd “ Yon recreant isle, and sheath'd the sword, “ When peace with palm has crown'd thy brows, “ Haste thee, to pay thy pilgrim vows. “ There, observant of my lore, “ The pavement's hallow'd depth explore ; “ And thrice a fathom underneath “ Dive into the vaults of death.

6. There shall thine eye, with wild amaze, « On his gigantic stature gaze ; " There shalt thou find the monarch. laid, " All in warrior-weeds array'd ; “ Wearing in death his helmet-crown, “ And weapons huge of old renown. “ Martial prince, 'tis thine to save « From dark oblivion Arthur's grave! “ So may thy ships securely stem “ The western frith: thy diadem “ Shine victorious in the van, “ Nor heed the slings of Ulster's clan : “ Thy Norman pike-men win their way

Up the dun rocks of Harold's bay : “ And from the steeps of rough Kildare “ Thy prancing hoofs the falcon scare: “ So may thy brow's unerring yew " Its shafts in Roderick's heart imbrew."

Amid the peeling symphony The spiced goblets mantled high; With passions new the song impressid The listening king's impatient breast : Flash the keen lightnings from his eyes; He scorns awhile his bold emprise ; Ev'n now he seems, with eager pace, The consecrated floor to trace ; And ope,

from its tremendous gloom, The treasure of the wondrous tomb : Ev'n now, he burns in thought to rear, From its dark bed, the ponderous spear,

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