"Goddefs of Combat!" Hacho cries, "Thus doft thou give the battle's prize? "And do then victory's gods deny "To view my arms with friendly eye?”— "Chide not!" fierce Skogul thus replied, "For conqueft ftill fhall grace thy fide; "Thou fhalt prevail, the foe fhall yield, "And thine remain the bloody field."

She faid, and urged her coal-black steed
Swift to the hall of gods to fpeed;
And there to Odin's heroes tell
A king drew near with them to dwell,

"Hither," thus Odin fpoke,

"the king

"Let Hermoder and Braga bring;
"A monarch comes, an hero guest,
"Who well deferves with me to reft.".

Said Hacho, while his ftreaming blood Pour'd down his limbs its crimson flood, -"God Odin's eyes, my brethren bold, "Our arms with hostile glance behold !"

Then Braga fpoke.-" Brave monarch, know, "Thou to Valhalla's joys fhalt go,

"There

"There to drink mead in skulls of foes,

"And at the feaft of gods repofe :
"To greet thee at the magic gate,
"E'en now eight hero-brothers wait,
With joyful eyes thy coming fee,
"And wish, thou foe of kings, for thee."-

"Yet be my fword," the king replied, "Once more in Norman flaughter dyed; "Let me, as heroes fhould, expire, "And fall in fight, as fell my fire: "So fhall my glory live, and fame "Shall long remember Hacho's name."

He ceases, and to combat flies:

He fights, he conquers, and he dies 4.
But foon he finds what joys attend,
Who dare in fight their days to end :
Soon as he gains Valhalla's gate,
Eight heroes there to greet him wait;
The gods a friend the monarch call,
And welcome him to Odin's hall,

Who in Valhalla thus fhall be
Loved and revered, oh! blefs'd is he
His conqueft and his fame fhall long
Remember'd be, and live in song.

Wolf

Wolf Fenris first his chain fhall break,
And on mankind his fury wreak,
Ere walks a king in Hacho's tracę,
Or fills fo well his vacant place.

Since to the gods the king hath fled,
Heroes and valiant hofts have bled:
The bones of friends have ftrow'd the fand;
Ufurping tyrants fway the land;

And many a tear for Hacho brave
Still falls upon his honour'd grave,

No.

No. IX.

THE ERL-KING.

GERMAN.- M. G. LEWIS,

Though founded on a Danish tradition, this Ballad was originally written in German, and is the production of the celebrated Goethe, author of Werter, &c.

WHO is it that rides through the foreft fo faft,

While night frowns around him, while fhrill roars the blaft? The father, who holds his young fon in his arm,

And clofe in his mantle has wrapp'd him up warm.

"Why trembles my darling? why fhrinks he with fear?""Oh, father! my father! the Erl-King is near ! "The Erl-King, with his crown and his beard long and white !"

"Oh! your eyes are deceived by the vapours of night.”—

"Come,

-“Come, baby, fweet baby, with me go away!
"Fine clothes you shall wear, we will play a fine play;
Fine flowers are growing, white, fcarlet, and blue,
"On the banks of yon river, and all are for you."-

-"Oh! father! my father! and doft thou not hear, "What words the Erl-King whispers low in mine ear?""Now hush thee, my darling, thy terrors appease; "Thou hear'ft, 'mid the branches, where murmurs the breeze."

"Oh! baby, fweet baby, with me go away!

"My daughter fhall nurse you, fo fair and fo gay;

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My daughter, in purple and gold who is drefs'd,

"Shall tend you, and kiss you, and fing you to reft!"

"Oh! father! my father! and doft thou not fee "The Erl-King and his daughter are waiting for me ?"-"Oh! shame thee, my darling, 'tis fear makes thee blind: "Thou fee'ft the dark willows which wave in the wind.".

"I love thee! I doat on thy face fo divine!

"I muft and will have thee, and force niakes thee mine!"My father! my father! oh! hold me now fast!

"He pulls me! he hurts, and will have me at laft!”—

The father he trembled, he doubled his fpeed;

O'er hills and through forests he spurr'd his black steed; But when he arrived at his own caftle door,

Life throbb'd in the sweet baby's bofom no more.