And canopied with golden pall,
Amid Cilganon's castle-hall,
Sublime, in formidable state,

And warlike splendour; Henry sate;
Prepared to stain the briny flood
Of Shannon's lake with rebel blood.

Illumining the vaulted roof,

A thousand torches flamed aloof:
From massy cups, with golden gleam,
Sparkled the red metheglin's stream;
To grace the gorgeous festival,
Along the lofty-window'd hall
The storied tapestry was hung;
With minstrelsy the rafters rung
Of harps, that with reflected light
From the proud gallery glitter'd bright:
While gifted bards, a rival throng,
(From distant Mona, nurse of song,
From Teivi, fringed with umbrage brown,
From Elvy's vale, and Cader's crown,
From many a shaggy precipice
That shades Serne's hoarse abyss,

And many a sunless solitude

Of Radnor's inmost mountains rude,)

To crown the banquet's solemn close,
Themes of British glory chose;

And to the strings of various chime,
Attemper'd thus the fabling rhyme;

"O'er Cornwall's cliffs the tempest roar'd,

*

High the screaming sea-mew soar'd, "On Tintaggel's topmast tower "Darksome fell the sleety shower; "Round the rough castle shrilly sung "The whirling blast, and wildly flung "On each tall rampart's thundering side "The surges of e tumbling tide: "When Arthur ranged his red-cross ranks "On conscious Camlan's crimsoned banks : "By Mordred's faithless guile decreed "Beneath a Saxon spear to bleed!

"Yet in vain a payuim foe

"Arm'd with fate the mighty blow:

*Tintaggel, or Tintadgal-castle, where king Arthur is said to have been born, and to have chiefly resided. Some of its huge fragments still remain, on a rocky peninsular cape, of a prodigious declivity, towards the sea, and almost inaccessible from the land side, on the southern coasts of Cornwall.

"For when he fell, an elfin queen,
"All in secret, and unseen,
"O'er the fainting hero threw
" Her mantle of ambrosial blue;
"And bade her spirits bear him far,
"In Merlin's agate-axled car,
"To her green isle's enamel'd steep,
"Far in the navel of the deep.

"O'er his wounds she sprinkled dew
"From flowers that in Arabia grew :
"On a rich enchanted bed,

"She pillow'd his majestick head, "O'er his brow, with whispers band, "Thrice she waved an opiate wand; "And to soft musick's airy sound, "Her magick curtains closed around. "There, renew'd the vital spring,

Again he reigns a mighty king; "And many a fair and fragrant clime, "Blooming in immortal prime,

By gales of Eden ever fann'd,

"Owns the monarch's high command: "Thence to Britain shall return,

(If right prophetick rolls I learn) Borne on victory's spreading plume, "His ancient sceptre to resume,

"Once more, in old heroick pride,
"His barbed courser to bestride;
"His knightly table to restore,

"And brave the tournaments of yore."

They ceased, when on the tuneful stage
Advanced a bard, of aspect sage;
His silver tresses, thin besprent,
To age a graceful reverence lent;
His beard, all white as spangles frore
That clothe Plinlimmon's forests hoar,
Down to his harp descending flow'd;
With time's faint rose his features glow'd;
His eyes diffused a soften'd fire,
And thus he waked the warbling wire.

"Listen, Henry, to my reed!
"Not from fairy realms I lead
Bright-robed tradition, to relate
"In forged colours Arthur's fate;

Though much of old romantick lore "On the high theme I keep in store: "But boastful fiction should be dumb, Where truth the strain might best become,

"If thine ear may still be won

"With songs of Uther's glorious son; Henry, I a tale unfold,

"Never yet in rhyme enroll'd,

"Nor sung, nor harp'd in hall or bower;
"Which in my youth's full early flower
"A minstrel, sprung of Cornish line,
"Who spoke of kings from old Locrine,

66

Taught me to chant, one vernal dawn;]
Deep in cliff-encircled lawn,

"What time the glistering vapours fled
"From cloud enveloped Clyder's head;
"And on its sides the torrents gray
"Shone to the morning's orient ray,

"When Arthur bow'd his haughty crest, "No princess, veil'd in azure vest, "Snatch'd him, by Merlin's potent spell,' "In groves of golden bliss to dwell; "Where crown'd with wreaths of misletoe,

"Slaughter'd kings in glory go:

"But when he fell, with winged speed, "His champions, on a milk-white steed,

"From the battle's hurricane,

"Bore him to Joseph's towred fane,