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Thus marshall'a, o'er Denania's misty vale
“ Ye scowling warriors, whose big bosoms pant
Approaches with his swarming legions, bred “ In Mercia's fruitful vales, and Sigebert “ On the right wing leads forth the Wessex bands. “ But be ye not dismay’d; here let us halt, “Screen'd by this woody height, and wait the attack. “ The God of victory smiles upon our arms; “ Thrice hath the Raven clapp'd his glossy wings, “ Thrice since the break of morn." Here ceas'd the Chief. Meanwhile the van of Segowold's firm troops Exulting reach'd the plain below, and now In banner'd pomp the rampant Dragon shone
Full on the adverse Host. A goodly scene,
the conflict. Delward's withering arm
Floating before his eyes, and with a smile
A faithful band of Danes
“ Spirit of Death! thy victory! behold,
“ Fit inmate for the yawning grave,
“ The bravest of the brave !
“Gothmund ! inglorious lies Thy plume, that rivall’d erst the dazzling snow;
“ Clos'd are those eyes, “ That erst flash'd terror on the foe, “ And crush'd the sinewy arm, that laid the mighty low !
“ Never more along the mountains
“ Shalt thou chase the bristly boar ;
“ Drink the wolf's empurpled gore.
“ The hallow'd precincts of thy to.nb,
(What time the western promontory
“ Is ting'd with Eve's departing glory,) “ Bending in pensive sadness o'er his spear, “ Shall muse on thee whose ashes rest beneath
“The hill of Roes, whilst through the deepening gloom “ The night-gales fitful moans funereal horrors breathe.”
The Virtues of this Saint, as mentioned in the poem, may be
found particularized in his life. The honour intended him by the Spaniards, is mentioned by Andrewes, History of England, Vol. 1.
One day, it matters not to know
years ago, A Spaniard stopt at a posada door :
The Landlord came to welcome him, and chat
Of this and that,
Does holy Romuald dwell
Still in his cell ?
No, he has left his loving flock, and we
So good a Christian never more shall see, The Landlord answer'd, and he shook his head.