« PreviousContinue »
So stood the DANES; but, soon o’erpower'd, they fly,
NORVEGIA's fons, of MAGNUS' fire bereft,
Fights as he flies, and Thields his little hoft.
With new felld oaks he walls his thin array ;
C Α Ν Τ Ο ΠΙ. .
9 when, beneath the night's tempestuous cloud,
Embattld winds affail the leafy wood; Tear on their fable way with awful found, And bring the groaning forest to the ground: The trunks of elms, the Arub, the fir, the oak, In one confusion link beneath the fhock. So death's sad spoils the bloody field beftrow'd ; The haughty chieftain, the ignoble croud, The coward, brave, partake the common wound, Are friends in death, and mingle on the ground.
Dark night approach’d. ... the flaming lord of day
The CALEDONIAN chiefs, to Man the storm,
With swords unsheath'd the awful forms appear’d,
Not infamous their aim, o'er lands afar cod
T:o spread destruction and the plague of war; of To meet the fons of battle as they roam,
Content to ward them from their native home;
For barren rocks, for fame and liberty. fi In you they live, fall’n Denmark's hoft may shew; Accept my thanks; your country thanks you too."
He added not: but turn’d his eyes around,
SCOTLAND shall thank thee for this gallant strife, While grateful INDULPH owes to thee his life.”
Thus he, advancing,.--- and with ardour prest The gallant warrior to his royal breast. The unpresumptuous Alpin bends his eyes, And mix'd with blushes to the king replies.
" To save our king, our country's antient thronez Are debts incumbent on hver ev'ry fon; O monarch! add it not to Alpin's praise; Thus said the youth, and modestly retird, While, as he moves, the king and chiefs admir'd: Slow to his stand his easy steps he bears, And hears his praises with unwilling ears.
The king resumes...“ O.chiefs, O valiant peers! Glad CALEDONIA dries her running tears : The warrior rais'd his faulchion o'er her head Now fleeps, forgotten, on an earthen bed. Fierce SCANDINAVIA's fatal storms are o'er, Her thunder-bolts lie harmless on the shore. But as when, after night, has beat a storm, . On the mild morn some fpots the sky deform; The broken clouds from ev'ry quarter fail, Join their black troops, and all the heav'ns veil ;
The winds arise, descends the fluicy rain;
He faid.no more: the gen'rous chiefs arise,
Thus for the arduous task the chiefs contest, While each wou'd grasp the danger to his breast.