 | The bridal of Vaumond |  |
X.
Still a low murmuring seem'd to riseThat iron cavern through—
Notes caught the warrior with surprise
Of language that he knew;
It was of Sicily—but ne'er
Such tones before did mortal hear;
Such voices ne'er his native tongue
To such a fearful descant sung.
113
Still, still that pæan wild he heard.
| The bridal of Vaumond | |