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The Legend of St. Loy

With Other Poems. By John Abraham Heraud
  
  

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XVIII.

As lofty oak the mighty blast
Assaults, with strife repeated fast,
Blustering through the frequent leaves,
That echo back what it receives,
Till the vast gnarled trunk, at length,
No longer may oppose its strength;

149

But yielding to the bolt of Heaven,
Blasted and shattered, scathed, and riven,
With heavy crash across the brook
Falls, a wide ruin levin-strook,
And o'er the green bank swells the waves,
Turning their course to other caves —
So pressed on Lothbroch's yielding frame
The Husband's sword of flashing flame!
The Giant felt his strength decay,
Before that dint's avenging sway,
Frequent, and fast, and thickening, now
Before, behind, above, below —
And, in the last extremity,
Loud and more loud arose his cry,
That called his band, To aid his hand,
And save him from his destiny! —
“Come, Osmund! Voltimond! — all! — all !
“Rush in! — prevent your chieftain's fall!
“Aid! aid! — or else perdition seize,
“Confound ye with mine enemies!
“Traitors! — Hell take you all! — Oh! could I rise,
“Your life-blood yet should glut mine eyes!

150

“Styx yet should know he sent thee there,
“Who still in death defies thee here!
“And breathes on you, with his parting breath,
“The malediction of his death!
“May it pursue ye, stand before ye.
“Gird ye round, and hover o'er ye,
“Torment ye in this life with more
“Curses than earth, air, sea e'er bore —
“And follow ye beyond the tomb,
“With an everlasting doom!”
Rushed his soul forth, disdainful; quaked the ground,
Shocked with the mighty mass — prone fallen with thundering sound! —