 | Poems |  |
SCALDIC SONG.
The eagle plumes her noble crest,
And seeks the dales of upper air,
And proudly swells her fearless breast
When gazing on the red sun there;
The fire-crested billow breaks loud o'er the Haaf,
And hushed is the runic wild, revelling laugh,
The storm in blackness shrouds the sky,
Save when liquid fires illume
The murky welkin—and they fly
In forked flashes through the gloom.
And seeks the dales of upper air,
And proudly swells her fearless breast
When gazing on the red sun there;
The fire-crested billow breaks loud o'er the Haaf,
And hushed is the runic wild, revelling laugh,
The storm in blackness shrouds the sky,
Save when liquid fires illume
The murky welkin—and they fly
In forked flashes through the gloom.
The garland is streaming from the mast,
The loose shrouds are shiv'ring, and furies are dancing
And frantic sybils on the blast,
Their baleful eyes in wrath are glancing.
O'er the wild and warring billows,
The frail bark by ice-bergs is rapidly driven,—
Sinks the wreck—and gelid pillows
Bear the inmates—hope is riven;—
But the sybil now is sailing
On the fire flashing wings of the merciless storm,
Though gale and surge are wildly wailing
The last dirge of Arva, of the paragon form;
And the beauty's golden tresses
Mark her form on the phosphoric billows of night,
And, anon, a father blesses
His relic of pleasure, and her guardian bright.
The loose shrouds are shiv'ring, and furies are dancing
And frantic sybils on the blast,
Their baleful eyes in wrath are glancing.
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The frail bark by ice-bergs is rapidly driven,—
Sinks the wreck—and gelid pillows
Bear the inmates—hope is riven;—
But the sybil now is sailing
On the fire flashing wings of the merciless storm,
Though gale and surge are wildly wailing
The last dirge of Arva, of the paragon form;
And the beauty's golden tresses
Mark her form on the phosphoric billows of night,
And, anon, a father blesses
His relic of pleasure, and her guardian bright.
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