Who gave unto his barons

Bracelets of yellow gold,

And his brother the Prince Edmund,

A chief of warlike might,

With the sword's sharp edge, at Brunenburgh,

Struck the enemy in fight;

The children of King Edward,

With the hammer-beaten blade,

Clove down the walls of mighty shields,

And low the banners laid.

They inherited their valour

From a long and noble race,

That valour which had oft preserv'd,

In ev'ry battle place,

Their country, home, and hoards, and crush'd

The foe before their face.

The fated Scottish armies,

And the mariners lay dead,
While the battle field resounded,

With the blood of warriors red,
Since first the sun rose up

At morning in the sky,

Until the mighty planet,

The lamp of the Most High,
The lamp of the Eternal Lord,
To rest sank drowsily.*
And many northern warriors

Were stretch'd upon the field,
Strewn with a crowd of winged darts,

Shot o'er the shelt'ring shield;
And by them lay the Scotchmen,

Weary of war's array.

But the Saxons, in battalions,

Came forth the livelong day,

And press'd upon the footsteps

Of the enemy abhorr'd,

* Literally--The field resounded with the blood of warriors since the sun rose up at morning, while the mighty planet, the bright candle of God, of the Eternal Lord, glided over the grounds, until the noble creature sank to her seat.

And hewed them downwards, as they fled,

With the mill-sharpen'd sword.

The Mercians they refus'd not

The rough game of the hand
To those who with King Anlaf came,
To seek our native land,

In the bosom of their bounding ship,
Across the ocean tide,

And hurried to the fatal strife,

Where they were doom'd-and died.

Five young and noble kings

On the battle field were lain,

In the gloomy sleep of mighty death,
By the swords of warriors slain;
And with them slumber'd seven earls,
Of Anlaf's proud array,

And countless mariners and Scots

Died in the desp'rate fray. The leader of the Northmen

Was chas'd away and flew,
Compell'd to seek his winged ship,
With his remaining few;

The crowded vessel drove afloat,
While rushing from the strife,

And wading through the fallow flood,
The king preserv'd his life.
The hoary chief King Constantine,

The valiant and the wise,

Fled homewards to his native North,

Fled from his enemies.

He had no need to boast

In the war of sword and shield,
His kindred and his friends lay dead
On the crowded battle field.
He left his son but young in war,

Mangled with many a wound,

All lifeless amidst heaps of dead,

Upon the ruddy ground.

He needed not to boast,

Whose locks were ting'd with gray,

L

That his followers or the battle field

At warlike deeds were best,
At the conflict of the banners,

When spear to spear was press'd;
When the men of arms assembled,
At the interchange of blows,
And he met King Edward's childarsan
On the slaughter field us foes.
The Northmen vihir escaped

The arrow's gory rain,

Departed in their nail-bound ships,

Upon the stormy main, Over the deep line water,

Wit bosoms fill'd with sÜLEKEE.,

To the lonely shores of Ireland,

And to Dublin whence they came

The brothers then together,

The king and prince, return'd

To their own West-Saxon homes, the while

Their hearts exultant burn`d.

They left behind the sallowy kite,

The raven swarth and dread,

With its horned beak, and the dusky hawk,

To prey upon the dead;

They left the white back'd eagle,

And the greedy war-hawk there,

And that gray beast the wolf of the wold,

The vanquish'd dead to tear.

Never on this island yet

So many mortals fell

By the sword's edge since that old time

Of which historians tell,

When hither from the eastward came

The Anglo-Saxon host,

Across the broad and brimming seas,
To Britain's hoary coast;

And overthrew the Welch who forge
Strong armour for the fray.

And they slew their earls exceeding brave,
And o'er their land had sway.

NOTE II.-PAGE 20.

The marriage ceremony on the union of John of Gaunt with the Countess Blanche was performed in the Abbey Church, at Reading, on the 19th of May, 1359. The following lines from Chaucer's Dream are supposed to describe a grand festival held on the occasion in the King's Meadow, which lies under the northern wall of the Abbey and slopes gradually towards the Thames, from the opposite banks of which rise the Oxfordshire hills. It may be observed that the word 'well' in the fifth line is supposed to mean a spring or running stream:

And the fest hold was in tentis,

As to tell you mine entent is,

In a rome in a large plaine,
Undir a wode in a champaine,
Betwixt a rivir and a well,

Where nevir had abbay ne sell

Yben, ne kirke, house, ne village,
In time of any man'is age,

And durid thre moniths the fest,
In one estate, and nevir cest
From erly rising of the sonne
Till the day spent was and yronne
In justing, dauncing, lustinesse,
And all that sowned to gentilnesse.

At the sacrament the archbishop and archdeacons 'sung full out the service,' and (to quote a local authority) "if we consider the splendour of Edward's court, attended by his five sons then in the flower of their

youth, the king of France his prisoner, and all the principal nobles of the land, together with the tilts and tournaments that were every day exhibited, as well as the number of the tents and variety of banners displayed on this occasion, we may conclude this to have been one of the most pleasing and picturesque sights ever beheld."Mann's History of Reading.

Some gray ruins are all that remain of the Abbey where parliaments were held and bishops consecrated, and the line of a railway is traced across the plain which was the scene of festivity.

NOTE III.-PAGE 23.

In many of these legends there is a fancy which approaches to poetry, and the marvels they relate are not merely grotesque and naked improbabilities. I have annexed an extract from the voyage of St. Brandon and his companions, printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1498.

Our early poets appear to have delighted much in the music of the warblers of the woods, and the chronicler, in his quaint prose, has caught the spirit of his brethren of the lyre.

"Soon after, as God would, they saw a fair island full of flowers, herbs, and trees, whereof they thanked God of his good grace and anon, they went on land, and when they had gone long in this, they found a full fair well, and thereby stood a fair tree full of boughs; and on every bough sat a fair bird; and they sat so thick on the tree, that unneth any leaf of the tree might be seen. The number of them was so great, and they sang so merrily, that it was an heavenly noise to hear; wherefore Saint Brandon kneeled down on his knees and wept for joy, and made his prayers devoutly to our Lord God, to know what this birds meant. And then, anon; one of