And call'd up dæmon-fhapes, to haunt the deathful

III.

Thus in the darkfome hour of woe,

When Ilion funk beneath the foe,

Amidst the gloom, the Trojan faw
A fight of heart-fubduing awe;
How Gods the burning ruin spread,
Where Juno call'd to feize the prey,

Where the dread Ægis blaz'd dismay,

[head.

And Neptune rent the walls, and bow'd the bulwark's

IV.

Say, who could mark this change of things,

The crush of ftates, the fall of kings,

And deem it Chance's random fway;

Or fcenes more wond'rous ftill furvey,

The folar walk, or ftarry sphere,

The blue expanse of fea below,

With the glad earth's autumnal glow,

And not with holy rites a pow'r unknown revere ?

So Tacitus of the Germans, "Lucos ac nemora confecrant, deorumque nominibus appellant fecretum illud, quod folâ reverentiâ vident." c. 9.

To folitudes by man untrod:

There, 'midst the nameless horrors round,

That feem'd to confecrate the ground,

The proftrate foul confefs'd the prefence of a God.

VI.

To Fancy then, the ftifled gale

Mutter'd fome dark, prophetic tale;

And then, from each time-hallow'd oak,

To wistful ears the Genii spoke.

But ah! what eyes profane have feen,

When light'nings pierc'd the vaulted shade,

When Jove, or Thor his arm display'd,

And launch'd his forked bolts, and thunder'd o'er the

[fcene!

VII.

"Lo! here, these woody fhrines within,

(A Druid cry'd) your rites begin:"

Then, girt for flaughter, took his ftand,

The broad knife gleaming in his hand;

And, as he fmote the captive's breast,

† "This (he exclaim'd) is Odin's right,
"The fruit of each victorious fight:

"From hoftile skulls we drink at Odin's heav'nly feast.”

VIII.

Away, ye horrid dreams, away!

The Day-star shoots its promis'd ray.

Anon, its fun-like glories rife,

Enkindling yonder eaftern fkies;

And, through the breaking glooms of night,

Far as the flame of fcience fhines,

The fainted phantoms leave their fhrines,

Their groves, and fprings, and caves, fcar'd with the

coming light.

+ Sec Mallet's Introduction à l' Hiftoire de Danemarck.

IX.

IX.

Forbear, ye bloody priefts, forbear

With groans of death to wound the air.
Hark! how the peace-predicting fong

Is chaunted by an angel's tongue,

That kindlier laws the world fhould bind,

That God, defcending from above,

Renews the broken chain of love,

The chain, which earth and heav'n in golden union

join'd.

X.

He comes: attend the Teacher's lore:

The glowing bofom owns his pow'r.

'Tis He: a God, a God appears,

Who fooths all doubts, and quells all fears;
To Hope he gives an eagle's wing,

Η Σειρήν χρυσείην εξ ερανόθεν. Hom. II. θ. ν. 19.

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