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Wolfwold and Alla.
Prisca fides. Virg.
'Он, low he lies; his cold pale cheek
'On Denmark's cruel bands, O Heaven! Thy red-wing'd vengeance pour; Before my Wolfwold's spear be drivenO rise, bright morning hour!'
Thus Ulla wail'd, the fairest maid
Thus Ulla wail'd, in nightly shade,
When sudden, o'er the fir-crown'd hill,
No more could Ulla's fearful breast
But, deep with hope and fear impress'd,
She left the bower, and all alone
And sought the cave with rue o'ergrown,
Black knares of blasted oak, embound
Soon as the gloomy den she spied,
Her robe of softest yellow glow'd
And o'er the ground, with yew boughs strew'd,
The golden gleam the Sorceress spied,
At midnight's magic hour, she tried
When, from the cavern's dreary womb,
'O, come, my daughter, fearless come,
As shakes the bough of trembling leaf,
So shook, so stood the beauteous maid,
A wrinkled hag came forth array'd
Around her brows, with hemlock bound,
Her skin, of earthy red, appear'd,
Clung round her shoulder bones,
A robe of squalid green and blue
A gaping rent, full to the view,
And tell, my daughter, fearless tell
My virgin heart Lord Wolfwold won;
Stern Denmark's ravens o'er the seas Their gloomy black wings spread, And o'er Northumbria's hills and leas Their dreadful squadrons sped.
'Return, brave Wolfwold,' Edric cried,
'The banish'd youth in Scotland's court Had pass'd the weary year: And soon he heard the glad report, And soon he grasp'd his spear. 'He left the Scottish dames to weep;
And, wing'd with true love speed, Nor day nor night he stopp'd to sleep, And soon he cross'd the Tweed.
With joyful voice and raptured eyes, He press'd my willing hand; "I go, my fair, my love," he cries, To guard thy father's land.
"By Edon's shore, in deathful fray,
And three long days beside,
'O mistress of the powerful spell,
And cease, my child, for all is well,'
( Approach my cave, and where I place The magic circle, stand;
And fear not aught of ghastly face
Then reach'd the labouring moon,
The pale beam struggled through the shade,
Around the tomb, in mystic lore,
Eyeless a huge and starved toad sat
And many a snake and famish'd bat
A fox and vulture's skeletons
And grappling still each others bones,
And now, my child (the Sorceress said), Lord Wolfwold's father's grave
To me shall render up the dead,
And send him to my cave.
'His skeleton shall hear my spell,
His hand of bone shall point and tell
O cold, down Ulla's snowlike face,
And thrice the witch her magic wand
And slowly, at the dread command,