minence, as a characteristic of the month of recurring blossoms, and evolving buds, to the re-appearance of the adder in the vivifying warmth of spring.

or as it will

"March wind,

Kindles the ether, and blooms the whin; "

vary,

"March wind,

Wakens the ether and buds the thorn;"

or as Shakespeare has enshrined the vernal observation,

66

"It is the bright day that brings forth the adder,
And that craves wary walking.'

J. Hardy's Col.

ODE ON ATHELSTAN'S VICTORY,

The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,

And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,
Did use to chant it.-SHAKSPEARE.

HE following "free metrical translation of the celebrated Anglo-Saxon Ode on Athelstan's victory gained over the forces of Constantine, King of Scotland, at Brunan-burgh, in Northumberland" was contributed to the Gentleman's Magazine anonymously, and appears in the number for November, 1838. The author proceeds to state that the "ode was originally extracted from two MSS. in the Cottonian Library, B. M., Tiberius, B. iv., and Tiberius, A. vi.," and the event it celebrates is "dated 937 in Gibson's Chronicle, and in Hickes's Saxon Grammar, 938, and supposed to be written by a contemporary bard." Here however it may be well to state that these dates have each their additional supporter in ancient record, the Saxon Annals give 938, and the Chronicle of Mailros 937. It may also be well to advert to one or two other points in the following poem, which seem to require notice. And first, Brunanburgh in the ode is somewhat unaccountably rendered Brunsbury, a name which neither any existing village or spot of ground in the county of Northumberland, nor the words of the original ode itself, seem to give

* Julius Cæsar, Act. ii. scene 1.

grounds. Much dispute too, has arisen relative to the positive locality of this ever memorable battle. Hodgson presumes Brinkburn, where, on the north, are to be seen ancient foundations, and especially as John de Hexham in 1154 calls the place Brincaburch, ortho. graphy which (he is inclined to believe) renders such a supposition very probable; but, on the other hand, Camden contends for the honour of Broomridge near the fatal field of Flodden, an opinion questioned by some, but Wallis seems confident that the lines and entrenchinents to be seen in the vicinity are those thrown up by the brave and successful Athelstan who so signally defeated the mighty host of Anlaf the Dane. This Anlaf, a brave and warlike man, like Alfred, explored the hostile camp as a minstrel. His pride betrayed him; a soldier observing him throw away the reward of his performance, watched him, and recognized the Northumbrian leader; afterwards he told Athelstan of the quality of his guest, "why did you not alarm the camp and stop him," said the king. "Because," replied the soldier, "I was once his liege man." That night an emissary penetrated secretly to the royal tent, and the occupant of the bed was assassinated, but it was not the king.--A dreadful conflict ensued which raged from sunrise until sunset, and the confederate princes were vanquished with fearful slaughter.

The writer of this poem concludes his prefatory remarks by stating that " though this is professedly not a strict translation, yet I would remark that several of the epithets, such as candle of the Eternal God,' applied to the Sun in the third canto; and our illustrious smiths of war,' in the last, are rendered word for word."

Rent the banner, snapp'd the spear,
By the sons of Edward here.

II.

From their earliest ancestry

Boldly taught to do or die;

In the fortress, and the field,

Wealth and lands and home to shield

From th' encroaching foe;
Rushing now with furious heat,
Girt by thousands, they destroy'd
Caledonias's host and fleet,

Till, with reeking carnage cloy'd,
Sunk the sword and bow.

III.

But the hills with thunder rang,
And the dead in slaughter fell,
From the hour when morning sprang
Over mount and plain and dell,
Till the red and hastening sun,
(Candle of th' Eternal God,)
Pall'd in mists and vapours dun,
Left to shadowy eve the sod.

IV.

There, the northern soldier lay,

Steep'd in blood from Albion's charge;

Lance or shaft had found its way

O'er his vain and scanty targe;

There the Scot, bereft of life,
Red with gore, and dark with strife.

Did each wild and rebel rank

Boast the Cambrian and the Dane;
They but journey'd o'er the wave
Here to find an earlier grave.-
Princes of the Danish blood,

Five had safely stemm'd the flood;
There they rest in grim decay,
By the falchion swept away.

VII

Seven Earls of Anlaf's train

Ghastly strew'd the sodden plain.—
Countless all was Scotland's host

From her fleet and army lost.

VIII.

But the chieftain of the north,

By the struggling moonbeam led,

With a wasted legion, forth

To his ship in terror sped;

Now they hoist the sail and flee
Swiftly o'er the yellow sea.

IX.

And the fallen Constantine,

Shorn his crest and marr'd his shield,

Mourning many a knightly line

Left on Brunsbury's fatal field,
Sought his mountain home.
Vainly 'gainst his conquering foes
Rang th' alarum cry of Hilda,
For the sound of sorrow rose

Even from Tweed to Holy Kilda,

'Mid the distant foam.

X.

Blackening on the blasted heath

Sleep the monarch's friends in death;
And his son, the brave! the fair!

Lies a mangled carcase there;

He could not save him from the falchion's power.
Howbeit, though bootless 'twere,

To wail the young in war, the lad with golden hair, He wept his princely dead, and cursed that bitter hour.

XI.

Ne'er shall haughty Anlaf boast,
Nor the remnant of his host,

That their swords in combat smote

With th' accustom'd strength of yore: Ne'er th' assemblies of the mote

Shall they lead in counsel more:
Never shall they now rejoice
In the battle's awful voice,

In the strife, when squadrons wheel
'Mid the clang of 'countering steel;
In the heaps of slain and dying
By each captur'd standard lying;
For they strove with Edward's heirs,
And the victory was not theirs.

XII.

Scarce a broken band

See the Northern warriors meet,
Where their toss'd and shatter'd fleet
Lies 'mid shoals and breakers, cast
By the tempest and the blast
'Gainst this hostile strand;
On each quivering bark they leap,
Hurrying through the waters deep.
First they gain the friendly walls
Of Eblana's ancient halls,

Then their homeward steps retrace,
Scath'd by shame and foul disgrace.

XIII.

And the Saxon Brothers, fraught,

With the spoils of chief's renown'd, King and Prince their country sought, Loftier hymn'd and lordlier crown'd.

XIV.

With the dead, they left afar
Every screaming bird of war;
Bittern hoarse, and hungry kite,
Beak'd raven black as night,
Gready heron from the sedge,
Eagle from th' unscal'd ledge,
Ravenous vulture from the rocks;
And the wolf and grizzled fox.