XVII.

Dark was the vaulted room of gramarye,

To which the wizard led the gallant Knight, Save that before a mirror, huge and high,

A hallowed taper shed a glimmering light On mystic implements of magic might;

On cross, and character, and talisman,

And almagest, and altar, nothing bright;
For fitful was the lustre, pale and wan,

As watch-light by the bed of some departing man.

XVIII.

But soon, within that mirror huge and high,
Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam;
And forms upon its breast the earl 'gan spy,
Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream;
Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem
To form a lordly and a lofty room,

Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam,
Placed by a couch of Agra's silken loom,

And part by moonshine pale, and part was hid in

gloom.

XIX.

Fair all the pageant-but how passing fair

The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind! O'er her white bosom strayed her hazel hair,

Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined; All in her night robe loose she lay reclined,

And, pensive, read from tablet eburnine Some strain, that seemed her inmost soul to find:That favoured strain was Surrey's raptured line, That fair and lovely form, the Lady Geraldine.

XX.

Slow rolled the clouds upon the lovely form,

And swept the goodly vision all away

So royal envy rolled the murky storm beloved Master's glorious day.

O'er my

'Thou jealous, ruthless tyrant! Heaven repay

On thee, and on thy children's latest line, The wild caprice of thy despotic sway,

The

gory bridal bed, the plundered shrine,

The murdered Surrey's blood, the tears of Geraldine!

2

XXI.

Both Scots, and Southern chiefs, prolong

Applauses of Fitztraver's song:

These hated Henry's name as death,

And those still held the ancient faith.—
Then, from his seat, with lofty air,
Rose Harold, bard of brave St Clair;
St Clair, who, feasting high at Home,
Had with that lord to battle come.
Harold was born where restless seas
Howl round the storm-swept Orcades;
Where erst St Clairs held princely sway
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay ;—
Still nods their palace to its fall,

Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall!-
Thence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave,

As if grim Odinn rode her wave;

And watched, the whilst, with visage pale,

And throbbing heart, the struggling sail;

N

For all of wonderful and wild

Had rapture for the lonely child.

XXII.

And much of wild and wonderful

In these rude isles might Fancy cull;

For thither came, in times afar,

Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war,

The Norsemen, trained to spoil and blood, Skilled to prepare the raven's food;

Kings of the main their leaders brave,

Their barks the dragons of the wave.
And there, in many a stormy vale,
The Scald had told his wondrous tale;

And many a Runic column high

Had witnessed grim idolatry.

And thus had Harold, in his youth,

Learned many a Saga's rhyme uncouth,Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, Whose monstrous circle girds the world;

Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell
Maddens the battle's bloody swell;

Of chiefs, who, guided through the gloom

By the pale death-lights of the tomb,

Ransacked the

graves of warriors old,

Their faulchions wrenched from corpses' hold,

Waked the deaf tomb with war's alarms,

And bade the dead arise to arms!

With war and wonder all on flame,

To Roslin's bowers young Harold came,
Where, by sweet glen and greenwood tree,

He learned a milder minstrelsy;

Yet something of the northern spell

Mixed with the softer numbers well.

XXIII.
Harold.

O listen, listen, ladies gay!

No haughty feat of arms I tell ;

Soft is the note, and sad the lay,

That mourns the lovely Rosabelle.