Upon the traitor's shoulder fierce he drove
The weapon, well bestowed. He in the seat
Tottered and fell. The avenger hastened on
In search of Ebba; and in the heat of fight
Rejoicing, and forgetful of all else,

Set up his cry, as he was wont in youth-
Roderick the Goth!--his war-cry known so well.

THE CURSE.

(From "Kehama.")

I CHARM thy life,
From weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,
From the serpent's tooth,
And the beast of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;

But earth, which is mine,

Its fruits shall deny thee;

And water shall bear me,

And know thee and flee thee;

And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,

And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee.
And thou shalt seek death,
To release thee in vain;
Thou shalt live in thy pain,
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.
And sleep shall obey me,

And visit thee never,

And the curse shall be on thee

Forever and ever.

THE SWERGA.

(From "The Curse of Kehama.”)

THEN in the ship of heaven, Ereenia laid

The waking, wondering maid:

The ship of Heaven, instinct with thought displayed Its living sail, and glides along the sky.

On either side, in wavy tide,

The clouds of morn along its path divide;
The winds, that swept in wild career on high,
Before its presence check their charmed force:
The winds, that loitering lagged along their course,
Around the living bark enamoured play,

Swell underneath the sail, and sing before its way.

The bark, in shape, was like the furrowed shell
Wherein the sea-nymphs to their parent-king,
On festal day, their duteous offerings bring.
Its hue?-Go, watch the last green light
Ere evening yields the western sky to night;
Or fix upon the sun thy strenuous sight
Till thou hast reached its orb of chrysolite.
The sail, from end to end displayed,
Bent, like a rainbow, o'er the maid.

An angel's head, with visual eye,

Through trackless space, directs its chosen way;
Nor aid of wing nor foot nor fin
Requires to voyage o'er the obedient sky.
Smooth as the swan, when not a breeze at even
Disturbs the surface of the silver stream,

Through air and sunshine sails the ship of Heaven.
Recumbent there the maiden glides along

On her aërial way;

How swift she feels not, though the swiftest wind Had flagged in flight behind.

Motionless as a sleeping babe she lay,

And all serene in mind,

Feeling no fear; for that ethereal air

With such new life and joyance filled her heart,
Fear could not enter there:

For sure she deemed her mortal part was o'er,
And she was sailing to the heavenly shore,
And that angelic form, who moved beside,
Was some good spirit sent to be her guide.

Through air and sunshine sails the ship of Heaven:
Far, far beneath them lies

The gross and heavy atmosphere of earth;
And, with the Swerga gales,

The maid of mortal birth

At every breath a new delight inhales.

And now towards its port the ship of Heaven,
Swift as a falling meteor, shapes its flight,