NORNA.

The infant loves the rattle's noise;
Age, double childhood, hath its toys;
But different far the descant rings,
As strikes a different hand the strings.
The eagle mounts the polar sky—
The Imber-goose, unskill'd to fly,
Must be content to glide along,
Where seal and sea-dog list his song.

CLAUD HALCRO.

Be mine the Imber-goose to play,
And haunt lone cave and silent bay;
The archer's aim so shall I shun-
So shall I 'scape the levell'd gun-
Content my verses' tuneless jingle,
With Thule's sounding tides to mingle,
While, to the ear of wondering wight,
Upon the distant headland's height,
Soften'd by murmur of the sea,

The rude sounds seem like harmony!

Mother doubtful, Mother dread,
Dweller of the Fitful-head,
A gallant bark from far abroad,
Saint Magnus hath her in his road,
With guns and firelocks not a few-
A silken and a scarlet crew,

Deep stored with precious merchandise,
Of gold, and goods of rare device:

What interest hath our comrade bold

In bark and crew, in goods and gold?

NORNA.

Gold is ruddy, fair, and free,

Blood is crimson, and dark to see ;—

I look'd out on Saint Magnus bay,

And I saw a falcon that struck her prey,—
A gobbet of flesh in her beak she bore,
And talons and singles are dripping with gore;
Let him that asks after them look on his hand,
And if there is blood on't, he's one of their band

CLAUD HALCRO.

Mother doubtful, Mother dread,

Dweller of the Fitful-head,

Well thou know'st it is thy task

To tell what Beauty will not ask ;-
Then steep thy words in wine and milk,
And weave a doom of gold and silk,—
For we would know, shall Brenda prove
In love, and happy in her love?

NORNA.

Untouch'd by love, the maiden's breast
Is like the snow on Rona's crest,

High seated in the middle sky,
In bright and barren purity;

But by the sunbeam gently kiss'd,
Scarce by the gazing eye 'tis miss'd,

Ere, down the lonely valley stealing,
Fresh grass and growth its course revealing,
It cheers the flock, revives the flower,
And decks some happy shepherd's bower.

MAGNUS TROIL.

Mother, speak, and do not tarry,
Here's a maiden fain would marry.
Shall she marry, ay or not?

If she marry, what's her lot?

NORNA.

Untouch'd by love, the maiden's breast
Is like the snow on Rona's crest;
So pure, so free from earthly dye,
It seems, whilst leaning on the sky,
Part of the heaven to which 'tis nigh;
But passion, like the wild March rain,
May soil the wreath with many a stain.
We gaze-the lovely vision's gone—
A torrent fills the bed of stone,
That, hurrying to destruction's shock,
Leaps headlong from the lofty rock.

Chap. xxi.

(7.) THE FISHERMEN'S SONG.

"While they were yet within hearing of the shore, they chanted an ancient Norse ditty, appropriate to the occasion, of which Claud Halcro had executed the following literal translation: "

FAREWELL, merry maidens, to song and to laugh, For the brave lads of Westra are bound to the

Haaf;

And we must have labour, and hunger, and pain, Ere we dance with the maids of Dunrossness

again.

For now, in our trim boats of Noroway deal, We must dance on the waves, with the porpoise and seal;

The breeze it shall pipe, so it pipe not too high, And the gull be our songstress whene'er she flits

by.

Sing on, my brave bird, while we follow, like thee,

By bank, shoal, and quicksand, the swarms of the

sea;

And when twenty-score fishes are straining our

line,

Sing louder, brave bird, for their spoils shall be

thine.

We'll sing while we bait, and we'll sing when we

haul,

For the deeps of the Haaf have enough for us all;
There is torsk for the gentle, and skate for the

carle,

And there's wealth for bold Magnus, the son of the earl.

1

Huzza! my brave comrades, give way for the

Haaf,

We shall sooner come back to the dance and the

laugh;

For life without mirth is a lamp without oil;

Then, mirth and long life to the bold Magnus

Troil!

Chap. xxii.

(8.) CLEVELAND'S SONGS.

1.

LOVE wakes and weeps

While Beauty sleeps:

O for Music's softest numbers,

To prompt a theme,

For Beauty's dream,

Soft as the pillow of her slumbers!

2.

Through groves of palm

Sigh gales of balm,

Fire-flies on the air are wheeling;

L