Alfred An Heroic Poem, in Twenty-Four Books. By Joseph Cottle: 4th ed. |
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 | Alfred |  |
When Alfred now the hostile camp had 'scaped,
Tho' joyful, he perceived a secret chill
Creep thro' him, for the stormy night was dark
And now (with danger o'er) his perils rose,
Appalling, with a force and vehemence,
Transcending the reality. His heart,—
(Roaming so late upon the verge of death)
He rais'd with gratitude, to Him, whose power—
All worlds controlling, o'er his servants oft,
As in this hour, casts his protecting shield.
Whilst musing thus, slow, from her watery bed,
With timid ray, the horned moon uprose,
And from her calming influence, seem'd to say
To all the elements' ‘Like me be still.’
The king her pale beams joyfully beheld,
And sped toward Selwood; doubting every sound,
The foe pursuing, whilst each branchless tree
Seem'd lurking Dane.
Tho' joyful, he perceived a secret chill
Creep thro' him, for the stormy night was dark
And now (with danger o'er) his perils rose,
Appalling, with a force and vehemence,
Transcending the reality. His heart,—
(Roaming so late upon the verge of death)
He rais'd with gratitude, to Him, whose power—
All worlds controlling, o'er his servants oft,
As in this hour, casts his protecting shield.
Whilst musing thus, slow, from her watery bed,
With timid ray, the horned moon uprose,
And from her calming influence, seem'd to say
To all the elements' ‘Like me be still.’
The king her pale beams joyfully beheld,
And sped toward Selwood; doubting every sound,
The foe pursuing, whilst each branchless tree
Seem'd lurking Dane.
| Alfred | |