 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
IX.
My Guthrum in the royal tent I found,With all his bravest warriors seated round,
Passing from hand to hand th' accustomed horn,
Which each in turn must drain, and none might scorn!
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Whose generous beverage bolder makes the bold.
O'erjoyed to see the warrior-friend restored,
Whom he had long believed at Woden's board,
The King, arising from his seat, made sign
To change the mead for draughts of purple wine.
Thereafter, hasty dais, by his command,
For me ascended at his own right hand;
Eric, my rescuer, and himself a Dane,
For seat beside me waited not in vain;
And youthful Hengist, though of Saxon race,
Received with us a like distinguished place.
Then rose the festal glee. Brave Guthrum called,
With joyous voice, for harper and for scald;
And scald and harper quickly came. But ere
They string could waken, or could song prepare,
Had I, aside, to noble Guthrum told
'Twas mine important message to unfold,
Which—premature as yet for others' ear—
It deeply touched his interest to hear.
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |