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To bleak Biarmia's *) coaft, on Fancy's plu

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Heaven's sparkling fires, or meteor's wide-ftretch'd blaze,

The scene in horror vifibile arrays.

The fummer, now fcarce felt his genial fini-
le,

Had fled indignant from th' ungrateful foil;
When rushing from his polar cavern, borne
On lowering clouds, aloft his clanging horn
Fierce Winter blew the denizens of air,
A friendly flock, to milder climes repair;
Or chirping plaintive on the leaflefs fpray,
No more with chearful notes falute the day;
But fwoll'n in ruffled plumage, hunger's rage,
On the red haw, or purpled whort affuage.

The

*) An account is given of this Country by Olaus Magnus ; L. I. c. I. It is the Eaftern, or Muscovite part of Lapland. Ohthere, the Capt. Cook of the 10th, century, calls it Beormas.

The foreft bends beneath the weight of
fnow;

And, as at intervals the cold winds blow,
The glittering fhower in wild confufion flies,
With brightness clothes the plains, while gloom in-
vefts the fkies.

No longer bursting o'er their rugged mound
The torrents foam; in eryftal fetters bound,
They ftand erect; like pillars cloth'd with light;
And feem to prop the rock's projecting height.

The fhivering herds to diftant vales repair; A And the gaunt wolf, while thro' the depth of air

Glides the pale moon, her beams in hatred views,
And her ftill courfe with howling wild purfues:
Or famine - pinch'd, and funk his glaring eyes
In hollow fockets, faintly growls, and dies.

The Weird fifters to a coast so dire, Congenial to their fouls, at times retire; And view, their only pleasure to destroy, The wreck of nature with malignant joy.

There, a vaft cave, unknown to mortal eyes,
Deep- buried in a pathlefs foreft lies:

Huge incicles, impending from the heigh,
Of beetling cliffs, ting'd with transparent light,
Like polifh'd fpears revers'd, its jaws fur-
round,

And shoot their many-colour'd rays around.
But darkness reign'd within; fave when re-
tir'd,

With quenchless hatred to mankind inspir'd,

The fifters meet; then mix'd with vap'rous

gloom,

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bote.

hole.

Flames bursting thro' the central point, illume The difmal cavern; while from realms profound

Spirits unbleft arife, and wheel around

.

In myftic dance. There now in orgies dire,
'Gainft Britain's prince to wreak their ruthless

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At which, if acted in day's facred light,

The fun, with horror ftruck, had backward

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Aed;

Or veil❜d in dark'ning clouds his blazing head.

Still from the Daemons, by their potent

spell

Controll'd, dark words of doubtful import fell,
Unpleafing to their ears: in wild defpair

They beat their breasts, and rend their fnaky
hair;

Draw from their mangled fides the gushing blood,
And fprinkle o'er the flame the purple flood;
And whilft they brave the power who rules the

fkies,

Invoke their kindred fiends with fiercer cries.

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Earth shakes

more black the circling vapour flows,

And the red flame with keener radiance glows.

Sleeps vengeance then, ye fons of baleful night,

Exclaims fierce Urda, by the lurid light

Dimly defcried; Oh fhame, oh dire difgrace!
Shall we be baffled by man's puny race?

Say

Say, have I weav'd in fate's mysterious loom
The web of Hengifts life, and ftamp'd his
doom

In vain? No, yet again our knight renown'd
Shall rife, fhall triumph, and his foes confound
Spirits of night! reception due prepare:

Take him, my fifters, to your guardian care.
His former ftrength renew; and thro' his foul
Bid the swoll'n tides of rage and vengeance roll.
Whate'er the impulfe of his mind infpires,
Regard, nor counteract his wild defires,

But, whilft his breaft with high-wrought fury
glows,

Hurl him, like heaven's red bolt, to blaft our
foes.

I breathe the fcent of carnage! death pursues
His courfe, and royal blood his fteel embrues!
Visions of keen delight! why interpofe
These hated clouds, and on the prospect close?
Sifters, rejoice! behold, enough is known
Fate aids our will deftruction is our own!"

--

Receive your charge." - This faid, fhe iwift
enfhrouds

Her form of terror mid encircling clouds,
And rafhing forward on the howling blaft,
The groaning forest trembled as she past.

Stretch'd on his couch the Saxon monarch

lies;

The fhades of darkness swim before his eyes.

His feeble pulfe, his quick, diforder'd breath,

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Appear the omens of approaching death.
But ah! not yet muft Hengift fall!

er

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the pow

Of magic charms prolongs life's tranfient hour.
Again with vital heat his bofom glows,
And thro' his veins the genial current flows.

Zole.

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hole.

Awaking from his death-like fwoon, his

eyes

He wildly cafts around him; whilft arise
Far different fcenes before his wond'ring view,
From those the Mule fo late in terror drew.
The hags abhorr'd, and all the forms of dread,
The livid flames, and dusky imoke was filed.
The difmal cave a lovelier form affum'd;
A ftately hall with pendant lamps illum'd.
From every fide reflected luftre fhines,
That mocks the fplendor of Golconda's mines.
The fapphire's blue, and topaz' golden gleams,
The ruby's glow, the cryftal's liquid beams,
Mix'd with the diamond's varied rays, unite
In glittering wreaths to captivate the fight.

A marble pillar huge, of fnow-white hue,
The centre graced, and o'er the ceiling threw
Its branches wide: the pictur'd forms between,
Of vanquish'd chiefs, and conqu'ring knights were
feen;

And by them stood fair maids, their valour's pri

ze,

With plaufive fmiles, and love-illumin'd eyes.

Around his couch, to fight a beauteous
band

Of gentle youths, attending spirits stand.
With notes harmonious now they footh his ear;
And now his foul with air-form'd vifions cheer.

But tho', whate'er could give to trouble eafe,

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Whate'er the wifh could form, or fancy please,
Was there; no joy can gloomy Hengift find;
His late difgrace weighs heavy on his mind.

Nor

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