On her mild face the modest blushes rise,
And fair disorder darted from her eyes.
The parent king observed the virgin whole,
And read the harmless secret in her soul,
A while the maze of calm discourse they wind;
At length the king unveils his royal mind.
"Warded from Albion's head, the storm is o'er;
Her prince is found, her foes are now no more:
Through time 'tis ours her happiness to trace,
"Tis ours to bind the future bands of peace.
Posterity for Albion's crown may fight,
And couch ambition in the name of right,
With specious titles urge the civil war,
And to a crown their guilty journey tear:
I end these fears: the streams shall run in one,
Nor struggling kindred strive to mount the throne.
I shield my daughter with young Duffus' arms,
And bless the warrior with Culena's charms."
Thus said the king. Their willing hands they join,
The rev'rend priest runs o'er the rites divine.
The solemn ceremony closed with pray'r,
And Duffus called his own the royal fair.
The storm is ceased; the clouds together fly,
And clear at once the azure fields of sky;
The mid-day sun pours down his sultry flame,
And the wet heath waves glist'ring in the beam.
The hunter-chiefs appear upon the brow,
Fall down the hill, and join the king below;
Slow through the narrow vale their steps they bear,
Behind advance the spoils of sylvan war.
Far on a head-land point condensed they stood,
And threw their eyes o'er ocean's sable flood;
Tall ships advance afar; their canvas sails
In their swoll'n bosom gather all the gales;
Floating along the sable back of sea,
Before the wind they cut their spumy way;
Bend in their course, majestically slow,
And to the land their lazy journey plow.
Thus spungy clouds on heav'n's blue vault arise,
And float, before the wind, along the skies;
Their wings opposed to the illustrious sun,
Shine, as they move, majestically on.
Thus godlike Harold brought his floating aid,
Unknowing Sueno's numbered with the dead.
From Anglia's coasts he called his troops afar,
To aid his brother in the foreign war.
Arrived, he in the wave the anchor throws,
Attempts to land, and Albion's chiefs oppose;
Wave on the fatal shore the pointed spear,
And send the arrow whizzing through the air.
The Danes return the flying death afar,
And, as they crowd away, maintain the war.
An arrow tore through air its murm'ring path,
Fell on the king, and weighed him down to death:
Quick, from the wound, the blood tumult'ous sprung,
And o'er the sand the reeking weapon flung:
Prone on the strand an awful trunk he lies,
While sleep eternal steals upon his eyes.
The mournful chiefs around the dying stood,
Some raise the body, others stem the blood:
In vain their care;-the soul for ever fled,
And fate had numbered Indulph with the dead.
Culena, whom young Duffus set apart,
With a green bank secured the hostile dart.
Her father's fate assailed her tender ear,
She beat her snowy breast, and tore her hair:
Frantic along the sand she run, she flew,
And on the corse distressful beauty threw :
She called her father's shade with filial cries,
And all the daughter streaming from her eyes.
Bent on revenge the furious Duffus strode,
And eyed, with angry look, the sable flood.
A ship, which near had took its nodding stand,
Fixed with the pitchy haulser to the strand,
Remains of Sueno's fleet, the hero viewed,
And to the mournful warriors spoke aloud:
"Let those whose actions are enchained by years Honour the mighty dead with friendly tears;
While we of youth, descending to the main,
Exact severe atonement of the Dane."
He thus: and rushing through the billowy roars, With brawny arms his rapid journey oars;
Divides with rolling chest the ridgy sea,
Lashing the bubbling liquid in his way.
The boat he seized, and, meas'ring back the deep,
Wafted his brave companions to the ship;
The haulser broke, unfurled the swelling sail,
And caught the vig'rous spirit of the gale:
Before the sable prow the ocean parts,
And groans beneath the vessel as it darts.
Now on the foe the Scottish warriors gain;
Swells on the approaching eye the floating Dane.
Fierce Ulric's skill brought up the lazy rear,
Famed in the fields of main to urge the war.
Twice seven years, in base pursuit of gain,
He plowed the waves, the common foe of men;
At last to Harold aiding arms he joined ;
Grasping the spoil with avaricious mind.
At first he shoots the leaping shaft afar,
And manages with skill the distant war.
The chiefs of Albion, with collected might,
Bear on the foe, and close the naval fight.
Deck joined to deck, and man engaged with man,
Sword spoke with sword, and Scot transfixed his Dane.
The smoking oak is covered o'er with gore,
Till the whole pirate crew are now no more.
The empty hull from wave to wave is tossed,
Nods as it floats, the sport of every blast.
The Caledonian chiefs again pursue:
The Scandinavian fleet o'er ocean flew.
T'elude the foe the Danes fly diff'rent ways;
And cut with sep'rate prows the hoary seas.
Some bear to sea, some rush upon the land,
And fly amain on earth, a trembling band.
As, in pursuit of doves, on rapid wings
The darting hawk through air his journey sings;
But when the parting flock divides the sky,
Hovers, in doubt this way or that to fly,-
So undetermined long young Duffus stood;
At length he sighed, and thus began aloud:
"While thus, O chiefs, we urge the flying Dane,
Unmourned, unhonoured lies the mighty slain;
Tis ours to grace with woe great Indulph's bier,
And o'er his fallen virtue shed the tear."
The warrior spoke: the Caledonians sighed, And with returning prow the waves divide ; With swelling sail bring on the fatal shore,
A mournful train of tear-distilling maids:
Above the rest the beauteous queen appears,
And heightens all her beauties with her tears.
Now in the tomb the godlike Indulph laid,
Shared the dark couch with the illustrious dead:
All o'er his grave the mournful warriors sigh,
And give his dust the tribute of the eye.
Removing, as the night inwrapt the sky,
They share the nuptial feast with solemn joy.
The royal Duffus, with a husband's care,
Soothed in his martial arms the sorrowing fair,
O'er Albion's rocks exerted his command,
And stretched his sceptre o'er a willing land.
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