Wild sparkles crest the broken tides, And, flashing round, the vessel's sides With elvish lustre lave, While, far behind, their livid light A gloomy splendour gave. It seems as if old Ocean shakes From his dark brow the livid flakes In envious pageantry, To match the meteor light that streaks Grim Hecla's midnight sky. XXII. Nor lack'd they steadier light to keep Their course upon the darken'd deep ;Artornish, on her frowning steep "Twixt cloud and ocean hung, Glanced with a thousand lights of glee, And landward far, and far to sea, Her festal radiance flung. By that blithe beacon-light they steer'd, Whose lustre mingled well With the pale beam that now appear'd, As the cold Moon her head uprear'd Above the eastern Fell. XXIII. Thus guided, on their course they bore With wassail sounds in concert vie, Or like the battle-shout By peasants heard from cliffs on high, When Triumph, Rage, and Agony, Madden the fight and rout. 1 Now nearer yet, through mist and storm, Dimly arose the Castle's form, And deepen'd shadow made, Far lengthen'd on the main below, Where, dancing in reflected glow, Spangling the wave with lights as vain That dazzle as they fade. XXIV. Beneath the Castle's sheltering lee, Sought the dark fortress by a stair With peasant's staff one valiant hand 'Gainst hundreds arm'd with spear and brand, And plunged them in the deep. His bugle then the helmsman wound; Loud answer'd every echo round, From turret, rock, and bay, The postern's hinges crash and groan, And soon the warder's cresset shone On those rude steps of slippery stone, "Thrice welcome, holy Sire!" he said ; Fear'd lest, amidst these wildering seas, The darksome night and freshening breeze Had driven thy bark astray." XXV. Warder," the younger stranger said, "Thine erring guess some mirth had made In mirthful hour; but nights like these, When the rough winds wake western seas, Brook not of glee. We crave some aid Until the break of day; For, to ourselves, the deck's rude plank Is easy as the mossy bank That's breath'd upon by May; And for our storm-toss'd skiff we seek Short shelter in this leeward creek, Prompt when the dawn the east shall streak Again to bear away.”— Answer'd the Warder, "In what name Assert ye hospitable claim? Whence come, or whither bound? Or come ye on Norweyan gales? |