"My damfels with mufic thine ear shall surprise,
"And sweeter a mortal heard never-"

Then ftraight of young maidens appear'd a fair throng,
Who their voices in harmony raising,

The winds they were ftill as the founds flew along,
By filence their melody praifing,

The winds they were still as the founds flew along,
The wolf howl'd no more from the mountains;
The rivers were mute upon hearing the song,

And calm'd the loud rufh of their fountains:

The fifh, as they fwam in the waters fo clear,
To the foft founds delighted attended,

And nightingales, charm'd the sweet accents to hear,
Their notes with the melody blended.

"Now hear me, thou gallant young warrior, now hear! "If thou wilt partake of our pleasure,

"We'll teach thee to draw the pale moon from her sphere, "We'll fhow thee the forcerer's treasure !

"We'll teach thee the Runic rhyme, teach thee to hold "The wild bear in magical fetters,

"To charm the red dragon, who broods over gold, "And tame him by myftical letters,"

Now hither, now thither, then danced the gay band,
By witchcraft the hero furprising,

Who ever fat filent, his fword in his hand,
Their sports and their pleasures defpifing.

"Now

"Now hear me, thou gallant young warrior, now hear! "If still thou difdain'ft what we proffer,

"With dagger and knife from thy breast will we tear "Thine heart, which refufes our offer!"

Oh! glad was the knight when he heard the cock crow! His enemies trembled, and left him:

Elfe muft he have stayed upon Elver's Hoh,

And the witches of life had bereft him.
Beware then, ye warriors, returning by night
From court, drefs'd in gold and in filver ;
Beware how you flumber on Elver's rough height,
Beware of the witches of Elver!

No.

No. VII.

THE SWORD OF ANGANTYR

RUNIC.- -M. G. LEWIS.

The original is to be found in Hick's Thefau. Ling. Septen, I have taken great liberties with it, and the catastrophe is my own invention. Several versions of this Poem have already appeared, particularly one by Miss Seward,

HERVOR.

ANGANTYR, awake! awake!

Hervor bids thy flumbers fly!
Magic thunders round thee break,
Angantyr, reply! reply!

Reach me, warrior, from thy grave
Schwafurlama's magic blade;

Fatal weapon, dreaded glaive,

By the dwarfs at midnight made.

Herxardur,

Hervardur, obey my charms,
Hanri too, and Angantyr:

Hither, clad in bloody arms,

Hafte with helmet, fword, and fpear!

Haften, heroes, haften all;

Sadly pace the fpell-bound fod; Dread my anger, hear my call, Tremble at the charmer's rod!

Are the fons of Angrym's race,
They whose breafts with glory burn'd,
All deprived of manhood's grace,
All to duft and ashes turn'd?

Where the blafted yew-tree grows,

Where the bones of heroes lie, What, will none his grave unclose, None to Hervor's voice reply?

Shades of warriors cold and dead,
Fear my wrath, nor longer ftay!

Mighty fouls to Hela fled,

Come! my powerful fpells obey.

Either inflant to my hand

Give the fword of myftic power, Which the dwarf and fpectre-band Bathed in blood at midnight hour;

Or, in Odin's hall of cheer,
Never fhall ye more repofe,

Never more drink mead and beer
From the skulls of flaughter'd foes!

ANGANTYR.

Hervor! Hervor! cease thy cries,
Nor oblige, by impious spell,
Ghofts of flaughter'd chiefs to rife;
Sport not with the laws of hell!

Know, nor friend's, nor parent's hand
Laid in earth's embrace my bones;
Natives of a diftant land

Raised yon monumental stones;

I the Tyrfing gave to these ;

'Twas but juftice; 'twas their due. Hervor! Hervor! reft in peace, Angantyr has told thee true.

HERVOR.

Dar'ft thou ftill my anger brave?
Thus deceitful dar'st thou speak?

Sure as Odin dug thy grave,
Lies by thee the sword I feek,

I alone may call thee fire,

I alone thine heir can be ; Give me then the fword of fire, Angantyr, oh! give it me!

ANGANTYK.