Canto III

As, the fifth day, by chance the wanderers stray'd
Where winding hills a narrow vale enclose,
Rich tents beneath them, stretch'd in stately rows,
Shone, in the pomp of Eastern pride array'd.
And on the turf, where thick the palmy grove
Impervious to the sun its shelter wove,
Lay knights in mid-day sleep all careless flung,
While waving on the boughs their lances hung,
And grazing o'er the mead their steeds at pleasure rove,

Scarce was the knightly brotherhood aware
Of echoing noises, and the sudden sight
Of horsemen pacing on the rocky height,
Than forth they start from their umbrageous lair:
At once, as they had seen a foe appear,
Or battle-trump had rous'd their startled ear,
The groves around in restless motion glow —
Now here, now there, all hurry to and fro,
The squires equip the steed, the warriours seize the spear !

" Let us," Sir Huon says, " the cause unfold,
" Rous'd by what sudden object unforeseen,
" Yon revellers start, that slumber'd on the green !"
' Sir,' answers Sherasmin, ' ourselves, I hold ;
' We are the cause — arm ! arm yourself! prepare !
' On us yon crescent wheels — forewarn'd, beware !' —
Firm, with cool blood, Sir Huon draws his blade—
" Here is my pledge with this my arm to aid,
" Come on what will, my friend, the worst I freely dare !

Then from the troop, in polish'd armour bright,
Rides forth their gallant chief our pair to meet ;
His words in courtly guise the strangers greet —
" Whoe'er of our high rank, illustrious knight !
" Mid these sequester'd haunts has chanc'd to stray,
" We ever have detain'd his errant way :
" And, sir, it rests with you, in bold career,
" If such your choice, to break with us a spear;
" If not, whate'er we will implicitly obey." —

' What is thy will !' Sir Huon mild demands—
" Not far from hence fierce, Angulaffer dwells,
" Whose hoarded wealth by daily plunder swells :
" High on a rock his iron castle stands ;
" Sworn foe and tyrant of the Christian race,
" Keen as a satyr in the amorous chase ;
" Nor sword nor spear can aught the giant harm,
" His magick ring defies man's feeble arm,
" Stol'n from the dwarf, whose wood you cross'd with wilder'd pace !

" A prince of Libanon now greets thee, youth !
" Who to the fairest of the fair was bound,
" For three whole years, nor grace nor pity found :
" So long unrecompens'd my peerless truth —
" She smil'd consent; and in the nuptial night,
" When love prepar'd to crown me with delight,
" E'en then, regardless of our mutual flame,
" In armour cas'd, that wolf! that monster ! came,
" And seiz'd my lovely lamb, and tore her from my sight !

" And now six months have slowly roll'd away,
" Nor aught the labours of my life avail :
" E'en hope, sole balm of wo, begins to fail !
" The iron tow'r, that locks my fail from day,
" Denies alike my entrance and her flight :
" Alas ! thus reft at once of all delight,
" One sole, sad joy remains ; from yonder grove
" That fronts the castle which confines my love,
" To watch the distant tower whole days with aching sight.

" So clear, at times, her image seems display'd,
" Sure I have seen her with neglected charms,
" Her hair wild-waving, and uplifted arms,
" As if to pitying heav'n the victim pray'd.
" That sight has fixt a dagger in my breast !
" Since then, my soul by dire despair possest,
" Sets in the chance of war its sole resource :
" These warriours, sir, are conscious of my force ;
" No knight goes hence unfought, who slights my just behest.

" But if success attend thy bold career,
" Success to mortal wight as yet unknown ;
" If, by thy valour, from the saddle thrown
" I prostrate fall, no let or hindrance fear:
" But if my lance, more fortunate, succeed,
" You, like these knights, must dare th' advent'rous deed ;
" Like these, in prompt obedience to my will,
" Must swear my sov'reign order to fulfil,
"And bring my lovely bride from Angulaffer freed !

" But if it please you to decline the fight,
" And swear at once to penetrate the tow'r,
" And force my angel from the giant's pow'r,
" Free choice is thine, and more — my thanks, brave knight !"—
Sir Huon says, ' What profits it to choose ?
' Kind, gracious prince ! your -offer I refuse :
' Yet much I thank you for the honour done :
' I long with you and all your train to run.
' As for the rest, 'tis time when low your liegeman sues,'

Th' astonish'd chief with changeful colour pale,
At Huon stares, but shame forbids delay :
The trumpets peal ; and in the tourney-fray
The knight's strong spear so strikes his brilliant mail,
That on the bosom of his mother earth
He lays the prince, like warriour little worth !
Swift, with impartial lance, upon the plain
He levels with their leader all the train :
Then lifts them up with grace befitting courtly birth.

" Sir, by my troth," the cedar prince exclaims,
Slow-limping tow'rds him with uneasy pace,
" I hail the stoutest knight of Christian race!
" Your hand, brave youth ! and let less painful games
" Of festal brotherhood, and dainty cheer,
" Commend me to your favour, brave compeer !"
Sir Huon thankfully accepts the treat :
With mirth and banquetting their guest they greet,
And in his smiles forget the prowess of his spear.

" Now," says Sir Huon, " since this arm has pow'r
" To win what sure was mine, at will to stray,
" Know, then, dear friends, that I without delay
" Speed on, unbidden, to the iron tower.
" To this I was resolv'd long time before,
" And now, more fix'd, to please my host the more."
Then lowly bowing to the festive train,
That stranger knights so nobly entertain ;
Salutes them one by one, and thanks them o'er and o'er.

And when the knights the nearest way had shewn,
That through a fir-wood to the castle leads,
In fearless confidence Sir Huon speeds,
That, haply, rescu'd by his arm alone,
They soon shall hail the beauteous bride again —
" Adieu!" — 'Heav'n guard you !' — In full course, amain
The bold adventurer through the forest flies;
And when Aurora paints the purple skies,
Beholds the gloomy tower that shades the wide champaign.

Th' enormous fabrick, form'd of iron ore,
Close barr'd around, all avenue denied,
Save where a little gate, scarce two feet wide,
Stood open, and the little gate before,
Metallic monsters of colossal height,
Through sorcery alive, so swiftly smite
The ground, rebellowing to their iron flail,
That stroke and stroke between, more thick than hail,
No beam of day can pass with undivided, light.

And now as in suspense the warriour stands,
In doubt to act, and droops with musing mien,
Bent o'er the tower a beauteous maid is seen,
Bows to the knight, and waves her beck'ning hands.
" Ay, ay," cries Sherasmin, " those waving arms
" May beat the wind; but trust not, sir, their charms!
" Those wardens there my very soul congeal !
" Look at yon Switzers with their flails of steel !
" No bone can pass uncrush'd !— Such death the brave alarms."

Yet bound by knighthood, Huon firm remain'd
Not to recede, though death his course oppose !
Yet since no counsel can these dangers close,
Since all must be by force, not prudence, gain'd,
Forward he dashes through the iron flails,
Sword rais'd, eyes clos'd — Such confidence prevails !
Heaven deigns to second his heroick trust :
Each fierce colossus, at his foremost thrust
Stands motionless as death, nor other foe assails.

Scarce is the hero enter'd, (while the squire
Holds in the outward court his fiery steed,)
Than the fair bride, all wonder at the deed,
Flies with wild joy ; gay hopes new charms inspire :
Loose down her neck her ebon tresses flow,
Loose floats upon the ground her robe of snow,
And clasp'd her lightly-shaded breast beneath,
A zone confin'd her shape with golden wreath :
Shape, that nor Grace or Muse might half so lovely show !

" What saint," (exclaims the sweetly blushing maid,)
" Guardian of faith, and innocence, and truth,"
The while her trembling hand scarce touch'd the youth,
" Sent you, brave hero ! to a stranger's aid ?
" Yes ; when you first approach'd the gloomy tow'r,
" I to the Virgin at that hapless hour
" Stretch'd forth my suppliant hand : she heard my pray'r,
" And by your valour snatch'd me from despair.
" Welcome, brave warriour ! sent by Heaven's all gracious power.

" Oh, haste ! heroick knight ! no more delay.
" How hateful to my soul each moment creeps,
" While yet this loathsome tow'r its captive keeps. !"—
" Fair maid ! I came not thus to speed away —
" Where is the giant Angulaffer fled ?'
" He lies in peaceful slumber, seeming dead:
" Ah ! should he rouse, how vain thy arm, brave knight !
" Vain earthly force to conquer him in fight,
" Long as the magick ring protects his charmed head.

" Yet shall thy hand the ring securely take ;
" The time now serves" — ' How so ?' — " The wondrous sleep
" Oft wont, each day, in death his sense to steep,
" None from his eyelid, ere the time, can shake :
" Here we may pass, unhurt, two livelong hours,
" Ere life returning reassume its pow'rs :
" Hear, while my words in brief the whole recite :
" 'My father, Balazin of Phrygia hight,
" O'er Jericho bears sway, and rules her sacred towers.

" Four years are past since fair Alexis lov'd
" These hapless charms : a prince of all the race
" Of Libanon most fain'd for peerless grace.
" Though coy disdain his patience sorely prov'd,
" Yet did my heart his virtues highly hold :
" And oft in secret wept my vow too bold,
" Sworn when the youth first woo'd me for his bride,
" That the connubial knot should ne'er be tied
" Till three chaste years of proof had slow and sadly roll'd.

" Love, gradual, o'er my heart in secret stole,
" And, ah ! the time of proof too slowly past!
" It came — the long-expected hour at last ! —
" Then, while my lips no more conceal'd my soul,
" The chamber door in thunders open'd wide,
" In rush'd the giant ! tore me from the side
" Of lov'd Alexis, weak, alas ! to save—
" Would we had sunk together in the grave !
" Seven dreary months these walls have held his captive bride !

" Who but heav'n's queen has deign'd a virgin aid ?
" She heard me, lovely virgin ! full of grace !
" The monster falls all senseless on the place :
" Falls, while he vainly woos a spotless maid.
" He seems as one in death, all vigour fails:
" For six whole hours the lethargy prevails.
" As oft his hateful passion he renews,
" As oft the miracle his force subdues;
" The ring no virtue boasts whene'er that sleep assails.

" This day again he woo'd, again he fell !
" Four of the destin'd hours have sped their course :
" Soon will he glory with recover'd force,
" And daring strength his limbs resistless swell.
" Dangers nor threaten'd death the wretch alarm,
" The while his finger wears that elfine charm.
" Who without proof its various virtue knows ?
" Haste ! take the ring, while now his eyelids close ;
" Oh, haste ! ere rous'd from sleep, new vigour nerve his arm !"

Now, reader, fancy-rais'd, as swells thy mind,
Rous'd by the sound of Angulaffer's name,
Thus far'd it with our knight — his thoughts on flame
Had form'd a giant of Titanian kind,
Brood of the earth, who erst, to storm the sky,
Heav'd, with uprooted woods that wav'd on high,
Mountain on mountain, and with effort bold
On groaning Ossa enormous Pelion roll'd —
But now, scarce seven feet growth, a mortal meets his eye.

Hast thou the godlike work of Glycon seen,
A breathing image of the chieftain bold,
Fam'd offspring of that wondrous brood of old ?
Such figure to thyself in shape and mien,
The man who lately at the close of day
Dar'd with loath'd love the plighted maid essay.
The wisest modern, fam'd for taste refin'd,
Who then had view'd him as he slept reclin'd,
Had thought " There, pride of Greece," th' Herculean image lay !

A Hercules, by leaden sleep opprest,
When ceaseless labour through the livelong day
Had cleans'd at last th' Augean heap away ;
Thus spread his back, thus rose his brawny chest ;
The same in figure, and in garb the same ;
Yet to our knight, this man of giant frame
Seem'd, in the day's chaste beam, not slightly mad,
Thus to repose, like Grecian hero clad :
Mere heathenism sure ! devoid of grace and shame !

" Now haste," with cheeks on fire, the virgin cries,
" Now seize the ring, brave knight ! and all is o'er ;
" Strike but one blow, the monster is no more !"—
" Such deeds ill suit me,' Huon calm replies,
" Sleeps he without defence, my naked foe,
" Weak as a child, unarmed to ward the blow ;
' He sleeps secure for me — Wake, wretch, awake !'—
" At least th' enchanted ring, brave warriour, take."—
He takes, and rules the ghosts, unweeting rules I trow.

The ring, to many a virtue yet unknown,
This wonder adds, that by enchantment bound,
It fits each finger with its pliant round,
As shap'd by curious art for that alone.
Swift it contracts, again as swift expands,
And suits alike both elf and giant hands.
The knight with awful transport views the ring,
Then shakes the slumberer with unwearied swing,
Till rous'd he starts at last from sleep's enchanted bands.

Scarce does the giant heave his mighty frame
When Balazin's fair daughter, wild with fright,
Loud shrieking flies away : firm stands the knight,
True to his order, and unblemish'd fame :
The heathen rolls around his glaring eyes—
" Ha ! who art thou, poor wight?" he fiercely cries :
" Why interrupt me in my morning sleep ?
" Thy head must from thy body long to leap,
" That thus before my feet its offer'd tribute lies !" —

' Up !' cries our hero,—' arm ! thyself defend !
Wretch ! to such threats my sword alone replies :
( Up, boaster ! from thy dreams to death arise !
' Heaven sent me here — thy life draws near its end !
' Clos'd with thy life, thy crimes, barbarian! cease.'—
Strange terrours shake his foe — " Release, release
" That ring, the while I slumber'd basely won ;
" Then, ere too late, my rising anger shun,
" And thank thy lucky stars, and leave these walls in peace !"

' What thou didst basely steal, that ring, I take,
' And to its owner will again restore,' —
Says Segewin's son : — ' arm, arm ! delay no more—
' Prepare thyself, nor further parley make !' —
" Youth ! while I slept, without delay or dread
" Thou mightst, unhurt, have hurl'd me to the dead !
" It pities me thy youthful blood to spill !
" Retire ! nor urge my wrath against my will !
" Brave man ! restore the ring— be thine thy forfeit head !"

' Shame on thy coward heart!' the youth proceeds—
' Dost thou forgiveness beg ? dost thou decline
' The combat, and, unmann'd, for mercy whine ?
' Die ! or deserve thy life by knightly deeds,' —
Up springs the foe, his limbs gigantick swell —
The castle shakes ! his eyeballs glare like hell ! —
His nostrils foam with rage, his mouth breathes fire !
He grasps with clattering hand his war attire,
And shakes his shield of proof, that braves all magick spell!

Down hastes the knight, and down without delay,
Cas'd in bright steel, his haughty foe appears :
Forgetful in his frenzy, while he rears
His magick armour, that its pow'rs decay
Beneath the dazzling ring's superiour charm.
At the first blow of Huon's vigorous arm,
The laugh forsakes him— in dark tides of death
Blood gushes up his throat, and bars his breath,
While more than mortal fears the staggering wretch alarm !

He falls, as prone from Taurus summit hoar
Falls some huge fir in thunders on the ground !
The castle with its turrets rocks around !
His stiffened eyeballs close — he breathes no more !—
And now the fiend of hell with grim delight
Drags to the cave of everlasting night
His spirit, doom'd to writhe in fiery pain !—
Sir Huon wipes his sword from poisonous stain,
Then hastens where the maid yet shakes with wild affright.

" Hail ! to thee, noble knight ! thy powerful blade
" Has freed me : — now thy triumph is complete !"
Fair Angela exclaims, and at his feet
Transported falls — " and hail ! thou heavenly maid !
" Who bad'st this knight thy votaress defend :
" Hear, while from grateful lips my vows ascend —
" Yes, the first son, that crowns my nuptial bed,
" How large soe'er, an offering for my head,
" This hand shall o'er thy shrine his weight in gold suspend !"

Sir Huon hastes the kneeling fair to raise,
And, as high peer of princely birth became,
Greets with all courtesies the grateful dame :
Greets with the good old forms of knightly days ;
Compared with ours, of texture less refin'd,
But better colour'd, and more thickly twin'd :
The vow of knighthood was to serve the fair;
Did but a woman sue, all perils dare,
And bleed alike for all, tho' chance to none inclin'd.

The damsel, who no moment had enjoy'd
To muse at leisure on his shape and mien,
Now as he stood unarm'd before her seen,
Had more than all the thousand eyes employed
That star with light the peacock's radiant tail :
Yet, sure, she thought, a thousand eyes would fail
To count his charms, so far beyond compare ;
His features, stature, form, and graceful air,
O'er all her wond'ring view had e'er beheld prevail !

Yet she compared him not in beauty's pride
To him, the youth who won her virgin heart ;
Free gaz'd her eye, that rov'd from part to part,
While not a wish allur'd the guiltless bride :
No fluttering pulse her innocence alarms;
No inward pang the sting of conscience arms.
Round her young breast a sweet illusion plays,
And, what secur'd the virgin, free to gaze,
Was, that no treacherous thought recall'd Alexis' charms.

And, artless Angela ! propitious fate
Will'd that thy looks, though form'd to wake desire,
Strike not in Huon's breast a spark of fire !
Let not this, " passing strange," a doubt create :
For when the youth's unconscious eye, by chance,
Met thine, and half-way mingled glance with glance,
Cold was his look, as of a bust of stone :
He on a vase of flow'rs the like had thrown,
Or on a group of nymphs that wrought in tap'stry dance.

It was, I know not what magnetick sway,
That, while it draws to Babylon the knight,
Dulls the keen radiance of his youthful sight,
And casts in shade her beauty's dazzling ray.
In vain her figure, like a beauteous vase
Shap'd by the hand of love, commands applause :
In vain, that, softly aquiline, her nose
From the smooth ivory of her forehead rose,
Vain each majestick grace, that willing wonder draws !

In vain her bosom, like twin hills of snow,
Around whose swell light vapours shadowy play,
Soft'ning with twilight-tint the glare away,
Gleam'd through the gauze that flutter'd to and fro ;
In vain her skin was like the glassy stream,
Where charm'd Aurora views her rosy beam ;
In vain had beauty on each part imprest
Her glowing seal so visibly confest,
That dress nor gilds her charms, nor veils their native gleam !

Yet lovely Angela, with all her charms,
In Huon's breast no warm sensation moves :
In truth, her presence but a burthen proves :
At every look he wish'd her in the arms
Of lov'd Alexis, ne'er to part again.
Yet no such wish her grateful words contain.
At length the knight, beyond all patience wrought,
Interprets by his own her secret thought :
His zeal to serve the fair no longer can refrain.

Scarce had he promised his all-pow'rful hand,
And scarce her lip had thanks eternal vow'd,
When, Jo ! with horse and horsemen echoing loud
The court rebellows ! now the the steel-clad band
Shout, as they clatter through the iron door :
Now up the winding stairs confus'dly roar !
The damsel shrieks — yet soon her wild affright
Melts into joy — Oh ! unexpected sight !
See ! lov'd Alexis springs her sparkling eyes before !

Too late, at last, the self-conviction came,
That, while the knight the ravisher defied,
And from the giant forc'd the beauteous bride,
The victor's triumph was the lover's shame !
'Twere shame that he, with all his gallant train,
He, her betroth'd, shou'd free from wound remain !
Sleep in cool shades, beneath the green-wood dine,
And thin his tender blood with palmy wine !
And ah ! if base that knight, could aught his force restrain ?

Then, instant as the blush of conscience died
The bridegroom's cheek, he summon'd all his train,
Sprung on his steed, and spurr'd him on amain,
Lest that our knight shou'd, ere he came, decide
The desperate fray, and leave for him alone
To take the beauty by another won ;
Commend the stranger to the saints above,
And — shame himself, you think, before his love :
But, sirs, he was a prince ! a prince of — Libanon !

Beyond his utmost hopes Sir Huon freed
From tedious circuit to the palmy vale,
Suffers the prince, whose flatteries never fail,
To swell his praises that all bounds exceed.
Yet, like reproof he feels unbounded praise :
And now at once before their wond'ring gaze,
Rais'd by the ring, a sumptuous table stands,
Bedeck'd -invisibly by fairy hands,
And all that lures the eye, or tempts the taste, displays !

" Ha !" cries the bride, " ere yet we join the feast,
" Haste to the harem, that detested spot !
" Wretch that I am ! such scenes so soon forgot !
" Youth ! with thy hand unloose, from death releast,
" Full fifty virgins lockt within the tow'r,
" A dainty tulip bed, of maids the flow'r !
" These, by the giant not in pity spar'd,
" Were, sure, for some high festival prepar'd :
" An offering for his god, stern Mahom's deadly pow'r !"

The harem opens, and at once unfolds
In sweet confusion wild the living scene
Of Mahomet's voluptuous heav'n, I ween !
Soon as our knight the tulip bed beholds,
He to the gallant youths commends the fair :
Speeds o'er the plain, nor aught regards their pray'r :
While as he turns in haste his steed away,
They beg the honour of his further stay,
His presence beg, at least, the festive board to share.

Now as the gradual gleam of rosy light,
Slow melting into evening-gray, subsides,
And soft the moon along th' horizon glides,
His courser droops, exhausted with the flight.
Sir Huon seeks beneath the shade repose ;
And, while around his anxious eye he throws
In search of shelter, where each weary steed
The care of Sherasmin may freely feed,
At once before his sight a stately tent arose !

Wide as the circuit of the tent extends,
A silken carpet spread upon the ground
Invites repose on pillows plac'd around,
Whose airy swell at every touch ascends,
And heaves itself, as if with life possest,
Internal breath inspir'd its wavy breast :
A golden tripod in the midst supports
A jasper table, where a banquet courts,
Deckt like a heav'nly feast, our pair by hunger prest.

Long mute he stands, as frozen on the place ;
Then asks the woodman " What these wonders mean ?'
' Ah !' cries the other, sparkling at the scene,
' Friend Oberon is near ! his special grace
' Beams o'er yon banquet visibly imprest :
' Without his aid, our limbs were fain to rest,
' Not sunk in eider-down, to snug repose,
' But on the earth, where chill the night-gale blows !—
' Ay, him I call a friend, who aids his friend distrest !

' Sir ! after such fatigue repose is sweet :
' Let us, awhile, these bonds of steel unbind,
' And give to mirth and revelry our mind :
' Well has the beauteous dwarf prepared the treat :
' Although in haste, the fairy spares no pains,
' But his dear friends most nobly entertains,' —
The knight his counsel takes, and free from car,
The jovial guests like ancient heroes fare,
And drain the frequent bowl, and crown with Gascon strains.

Insensibly the gentle hand of sleep
Unknits their slacken'd nerves, while sweet to hear
As warbled musick of the heavenly sphere,
Along the silent air soft voices sweep ;
From every tree a sound melodious floats,
As if the leaves were chang'd to fairy throats :
And clear alike in all, the angel song
Of soul-enchanting Mara flow'd along,
And tun'd a thousand trills, and swell'd the liquid notes.

Now gradual low the melody declin'd,
Full as at first, but sinking in its close,
Down to the cadence soothing to repose
Of the weak whisper of the summer wind,
When scarce a blossom trembles on the spray,
And scarce a wave in undulating play
Curls the clear lake the Naiad's knee around !
Huon, half slumberous, hears the expiring sound,
Then gently lull'd to rest, his senses die away.

He sleeps unmov'd till loud the early cock
Sounds to the world Aurora's fiery steed :
Wild wondrous dreams that restless fancy feed,
Now sweetly charm his soul, now strangely shock :
He seems through pathless solitudes to rove,
By rills o'erhung with many a shady grove :
Near him a woman like a goddess stands,
Beam'd from her eye heav'n's purest bliss expands,
And round her winning form soft wind the charms of love !

Can words the feelings of his soul convey ?
Ah ! till that time unfelt the force of love ;
Transported, breathless, without power to move,
Alive but in his looks, that never stray,
He stands, all wonder, rooted on the ground :
And when no more the vision hovers round,
He thinks the shade still swims before his gaze ;
And when no more the sweet illusion plays,
Closes his languid eye, and dies in trance profound !

In conscious death, as rapt in charmed dream
He lay upon the bank, he feels a hand
Warm touch his icy heart, new pow'rs expand :
While wak'd to blissful life his glances beam
Upon the beauty radiant by his side,
He thinks a goddess deigns from heaven to glide
In all her charms confest to mortal view ;
The forms of earth such graces never knew,
Thus lovelier glow'd the fair than when at first descried.

Their mingling glances shoot from heart to heart :
Soul speaks to soul. How quick, how strong, how warm !
At once the daylight dies — Amid the storm
That veils the heavens, portentous lightnings dart ;
Roll'd in his fiery chariot thunder raves,
Rous'd echo bellows from her mountain caves :
By more than mortal arm the goddess born,
Is in a whirlwind from his struggles torn,
And hurl'd before his sight amid the howling waves !

He hears her shriek of anguish, strives to save,
And cannot — Oh ! unutterable pain !
With horrour dead, he struggles, pants in vain —
Fixt like a statue pointing to the grave
He stands, and moves not — Now all vigour lost,
He freezes, wedg'd in masses ice-emboss'd ;
Now sees her, praying, from the flood extend
Her sinking arm— and cannot, wretch ! defend,
Nor die—how blest with her ! mid whelming billows tost !

" Sir !" calls his squire, who sees him on the spot
High tost with restless agony, " awake !
" Bad dreams your labouring throat convulsive shake !"
' Away !' cries Huon, ' fiend ! torment me not —
' Ah ! wilt thou rob me of her fleeting shade ?
' Leave me, at least, the visionary maid !'
Up wild he starts, keen anguish thrills his soul,
Fierce throbs his heart, his eyes confus'dly roll,
And ghastly pale his cheek, with drops of ice o'erlaid !

" That was a heavy dream," the old man cries ;
" Too long, perchance, upon your back you lay," —
" A dream !' cries Segewin's son, ' perchance it may!'
While gentler sorrows in his bosom rise ;
' Yet ah ! it racks my soul with inward woes.'
" Heav'n in its grace may otherwise dispose !"
" Now tell me,' says the knight, with earnest air,
' Think'st thou not, friend, that dreams, at times, declare
' The will of heaven to man, and future scenes disclose ?'

" Such instances are known," returns the squire,
" And since I've follow'd your advent'rous way,
" Wonders are things of course, seen every day :
" Yet, as your words the truth, plain truth, require,
" Freely to speak, your dreams mere dreams I hold !
" Sir, in my slumbers flesh and blood make bold
" To play, as suits them, no inferiour part :
" So taught our sires in rhymes all know by heart :
" Rhymes once in high esteem in those good days of old.

" Yet, haply, I may frame a better strain,
" If to my faithful heart you deign confide
" Some items of your dream, my thoughts to guide,"
" Yes, I will, freely, all that pass'd explain ;
' But time enough for this ere close of day :
' Yon height scarce reddens with the morning ray— -
' Give, give me now the spirit-stirring bowl,
' Its magick beverage may refresh my soul,
' That droops with leaden thoughts, and seems to die away !'

And while delightful draughts his strength repair,
The squire with earnest eye the youth pursues,
As one whose mournful gaze with pity views
Brave Segewin's son, the slave of deep despair :
Weak, as a woman weak, the man he deems —
Why ? thinks he, why ? and shakes his head, shall dreams
Now, in the day, when shines the sun, appal ?
Why, in one's waking hours, such things recall ?
Yet, since 'tis so, the bowl best solace he esteem'd.