"The laureate wreath, * that Cecil wore, she brings, "And to thy just, thy gentle hand "Submits the Fasces of her sway, "While Spirits blest above and Men below "Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay. VIII. "Thro' the wild waves as they roar "With watchful eye and dauntless mien "Nor fear the rocks, nor seek the shore: * Lord Treasurer Burleigh was Chancellor of the University, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. ODE VIII. THE FATAL SISTERS. From the Norse-Tongue *. Now the Storm begins to lower, (Haste, the loom of Hell prepare,) Iron-sleet of arrowy shower Hurtles in the darken'd air. Glitt'ring lances are the loom, Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane. *To be found in the ORCADES Of THORMODUS TORFEUS; HAFNIE, 1697, Folio: and also in BARTHOLINUS. VITT ER ORPIT FYRIR VALFALLI, &c. The design of Mr. Gray in writing this and the three following imitative Odes is given in the Memoirs of his Life. For the better understanding the first of these, the reader is to be informed, that See the griesly texture grow, Shafts for shuttles, dipt in gore, Shoot the trembling cords along. in the Eleventh Century, Sigurd, Earl of the Orkney-Islands, went with a fleet of ships, and a considerable body of troops into Ireland, to the assistance of Sictryg with the silken beard, who was then making wär on his father-in-law Brian, King of Dublin: the Earl and all his forces were cut to pieces, and Sictryg was in danger of a total defeat; but the enemy had a greater loss by the death of Brian, their King, who fell in the action. On Christmas-day, (the day of the battle,) a Native of Caithness, in Scotland, saw at a distance a number of persons on horseback riding full speed towards a hill, and seeming to enter into it. Curiosity led him to follow them, till looking through an opening in the rocks he saw twelve gigantic figures resembling women: they were all employed about a loom; and as they wove, they sung the following dreadful Song; which, when they had finished, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped Six to the North and as many to the South. These were the Valkyriur, female Divinities, Servants of Odin (or Woden) in the Gothic Mythology. Their name signifies Chusers of the slain. They were mounted on swift horses, with drawn swords in their hands; and in the throng of battle selected such as were destined to slaughter, and conducted them to Valkalla, the hall of Odin, or paradise of the Brave; where they attended the banquet, and served the departed Heroes with horns of niead and ale. Mista black, terrific Maid, Sangrida, and Hilda see, Join the wayward work to aid: 'Tis the woof of victory. Ere the ruddy sun be set, Hauberk crash, and helmet ring. (Weave the crimson web of war) Let us go, and let us fly, Where our Friends the conflict share, Where they triumph, where they die. As the paths of fate we tread, O'er the youthful King your shield. We the reins to slaughter give, (Weave the crimson web of war.) They, whom once the desert-beach Pent within its bleak domain, Soon their ample sway shall stretch O'er the plenty of the plain. Low the dauntless Earl is laid, Gor'd with many a gaping wound: Fate demands a nobler head; Soon a King shall bite the ground. Long his loss shall Eirin weep, Long her strains in sorrow steep, Strains of Immortality! Horror covers all the heath, Clouds of carnage blot the sun. Sisters, weave the web of death; Hail the task, and hail the hands! Songs of joy and triumph sing! Joy to the victorious bands; Triumph to the younger King. |
