To bleak Biarmia's *) coaft, on Fancy's plu 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- Had fled indignant from th' ungrateful foil; 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 And, as at intervals the cold winds blow, No longer bursting o'er their rugged mound 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, 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, Huge incicles, impending from the heigh, And shoot their many-colour'd rays around. With quenchless hatred to mankind inspir'd, The fifters meet; then mix'd with vap'rous gloom, 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, At which, if acted in day's facred light, The fun, with horror ftruck, had backward 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, They beat their breasts, and rend their fnaky Draw from their mangled fides the gushing blood, fkies, Invoke their kindred fiends with fiercer cries. 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! Say Say, have I weav'd in fate's mysterious loom In vain? No, yet again our knight renown'd Take him, my fifters, to your guardian care. But, whilft his breaft with high-wrought fury Hurl him, like heaven's red bolt, to blaft our I breathe the fcent of carnage! death pursues -- Receive your charge." - This faid, fhe iwift Her form of terror mid encircling clouds, 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, Appear the omens of approaching death. er the pow Of magic charms prolongs life's tranfient hour. Zole. hole. Awaking from his death-like fwoon, his eyes He wildly cafts around him; whilft arise A marble pillar huge, of fnow-white hue, 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 Of gentle youths, attending spirits stand. But tho', whate'er could give to trouble eafe, Whate'er the wifh could form, or fancy please, Nor |