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“ 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, 6. '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 impress’d 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,
Rough with the gore of Pictish kings:
By the Same.
Bound for holy Palestine,
“ Syrian virgins, wail and weep, “ English Richard ploughs the deep! “ Tremble, watchmen, as ye spy, “ From distant towers, with anxious eye, “ The radiant range of shield and lance “ Down Damascus' hills advance : “ From Sion's turrets as afar “ Ye ken the march of Europe's war! “ Saladin, thou paynim king “ From Albion's isle revenge we bring!
« On Acon's spiry citadel,
Blondel led the tuneful band,
Soon we kiss'd the sacred earth
renew'd: “ Lo, the toilsome voyage past, “ Heaven's favour'd hills appear at last! « Object of our holy vow, “ We tread the Tyrian vallies now. “ From Carmel's almond-shaded steep “ We feel the cheering fragrance creep: “ O'er Engaddi's shrubs of balm “ Waves the date-empurpled palm ; “ See, Lebanon's aspiring head “ Wide his immortal umbrage spread!