'And Truth fevere, by Fairy Fiction dreft. 'In bufkin'd measures move ||

'Pale Grief, and pleafing Pain,

'With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. 130 'A voice § as of the cherub-choir

'Gales from blooming Eden bear,

And distant warblings ¶ lessen on my ear,

That loft in long futurity expire.

'Fond impious man! think'ft thou yon' fanguine

cloud,

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'Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood,

‹ And warms the nations with redoubled ray.

Enough for me: with joy I fee

The diff'rent doom our Fates affign:

Be thine despair and fceptred care;
To triumph and to die are mine.'

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He spoke, and, headlong from the mountain's height, Deep in the roaring tide, he plung'd to endless night.

|| Shakespeare.

$ Milton.

The fucceffion of Poets after Milton's time.

E 3

ADIERTISEMENT.

THE Author once had thoughts (in Concert with a Friend) of giving a Hiftory of English Poetry. In the introduction to it he meant to have produced fome Specimens of the Style that reigned in ancient Times among the neighbouring Nations, or those who had fubdued the greater Part of this Ifland, and were our Progenitors: the following three Imitations made a Part of them. He afterwards dropped his Defign; efpecially after he had heard that it was already in the Hands of a Person well qualified to do it Juftice both by his Taste and his Refearches into Antiquity.

ODE VII.

THE FATAL SISTERS.

FROM THE NORSE TONGUE.

To be found in the Orcades of Thermodus Torfæus, Haf nia, 1679, Folio; and alfo in Bartholinus. Vitt er orpit fyrir Valfalli, &c.

PREFACE.

IN the 11th Century, Sigurd, Earl of the Orkney Ilands, went with a Fleet of Ships, and a confiderable Body of Troops, into Ireland, to the Affiftance of Sigtryg with the filken Beard, who was then making War on his Father-in-Law, Brian, King of Dublin. The Earl and all his Forces were cut to Pieces, and Sigtryg was in Danger of a total Defeat; but the Enemy had a greater Lofs by the Death of Brian, their King, who fell in the Action. On Christmasday (the Day of the Battle) a Native of Caithnefs, in Scotland, faw, at a Diftance, a Number of Perfons on Horfeback riding full speed towards a Hill, and feeming to enter into it. Curiofity led him to follow them, till, looking through an opening in the Rock, he faw Twelve gigantic Figures, refembling Women: they were all employed about a Loom; and as they wove, they fung the following dreadful Song, which, when they had finifhed, they tore the Web into twelve Pieces, and each taking her Portion, galloped Six to the North, and as many to the South.

NOW the form begins to lowr,

(Hafte, the loom of hell prepare,)
Iron-fleet of arrowy show'r
Hurtlest in the darken'd air.

Glitt'ring lances are the loom
Where the dusky warp we strain,
Weaving many a foldier's doom,
Orkney's wo and Randver's bane,

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Note. The Valkyriur were female divinities, fervants of Odin (or Wodin) in the Gothic mythology. Their name fignifies Chufers of the Slain. They were mounted on fwift horfes, with drawn fwords in their hands, and in the throng of battle selected such as were deftined to flaughter, and conducted them to Valkalla, (the Hall of Odin, or Paradife of the Brave,) where they attended the banquet, and ferved the departed heroes with horns of mead and ale.

#

How quick they wheel'd, and flying, behind them

fhot

Sharp fleet of arrowy fhower

Milt. Par. Reg.

The noife of battle hurtled in the air.

Shak. Jul. Caf.

Mifta, black terrific maid!
Sangrida and Hilda fee,

Join the wayward work to aid;
'Tis the woof of victory.

Ere the ruddy fun be fet

Pikes muft fhiver, jav'lins fing,

Blade with clatt'ring 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 tho' th' enfanguin'd field,
Gondula and Geira fpread

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O'er the youthful king your shield.

32,

We the reins to flaughter give,
Ours to kill and ours to fpare:
Spite of danger he shall live ;
(Weave the crimson web of war.)

They whom once the defert beach
Pent within it's bleak domain,
Soon their ample sway shall stretch
O'er the plenty of the plain.

Low the dauntless earl is laid,
Gor'd with many a gaping wound:
Fate demands a nobler head;

Soon a king fhall bite the ground.

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