When, 'mid their howling conclave driven,
Hath glanced the thunderbolt of heaven.
Bertram rush'd on-but Harpool clasp'd'
His knees, although in death he gasp'd,
His falling corpse before him flung,
And round the trammell'd ruffian clung.
Just then, the soldiers fill'd the dome,
And, shouting, charged the felons home
So fiercely, that, in panic dread,
They broke, they yielded, fell, or fled."
Bertram's stern voice they heed no more,
Though heard above the battle's roar;
While, trampling down the dying man,
He strove, with volley'd threat and ban,
In scorn of odds, in fate's despite,
To rally up the desperate fight."

XXXIV.

Soon murkier clouds the Hall enfold
Than e'er from battle-thunders roll'd,
So dense, the combatants scarce know
To aim or to avoid the blow.
Smothering and blindfold grows the fight-
But soon shall dawn a dismal light!
Mid cries, and clashing arms, there came
The hollow sound of rushing flame;
New horrors on the tumult dire
Arise-the Castle is on fire!"
Doubtful, if chance had cast the brand,
Or frantic Bertram's desperate hand.
Matilda saw-for frequent broke
From the dim casements gusts of smoke.
Yon tower, which late so clear defined
On the fair hemisphere reclined,
That, pencill'd on its azure pure,

The
eye
could count each embrazure,
Now, swathed within the sweeping cloud
Seems giant-spectre in its shroud;
Till, from each loop-hole flashing light,
A spout of fire shines ruddy bright,
And, gathering to united glare,
Streams high into the midnight air;
A dismal beacon, far and wide
That waken'd Greta's slumbering side."
Soon all beneath, through gallery long,
And pendent arch, the fire flash'd strong
Snatching whatever could maintain,
Raise, or extend, its furious reign;

1 MS.-"Bertram had faced him; while he gasp'd
In death, his knees old Harpool clasp'd,
His dying corpse before him flung."
MS.-" So fiercely charged them that they bled,
Disbanded, yielded, fell, or fled."

MS.-"To rally them against their fate,
And fought himself as desperate."
MS-Chance-kindled 'mid the tumult dire,
The western tower is all on fire.
Matilda saw,
" &c.

Startling, with closer cause of dread, The females who the onflict fled, And now rush'd forth upon the plain, Filling the air with clamors vain.

XXXV.

But ceased not yet, the Hall within,
The shriek, the shout, the carnage-din,
Till bursting lattices give proof"
The flames have caught the rafter'd roof.
What! wait they till its beams amain
Crash on the slayers and the slain?
The alarm is caught-the drawbridge falle,
The warriors hurry from the walls,
But, by the conflagration's light,
Upon the lawn renew the fight.
Each struggling felon down was hew'd,
Not one could gain the sheltering wood;
But forth the affrighted harper sprung,
And to Matilda's robe he clung.
Her shriek, entreaty, and command,
Stopp'd the pursuer's lifted hand.'
Denzil and he alive were ta'en;
The rest, save Bertram, all are slain.

XXXVI.

And where is Bertram ?-Soaring high
The general flame ascends the sky;
In gather'd group the soldiers gaze
Upon the broad and roaring blaze,
When, like infernal demon, sent,
Red from his penal element,
To plague and to pollute the air,-
His face all gore, on fire his hair,
Forth from the central mass of smoke
The giant form of Bertram broke!
His brandish'd sword on high he rears,
Then plunged among opposing spears;
Round his left arm his mantle truss'd,
Received and foil'd three lances' thrust;"
Nor these his headlong course withstood,"
Like reeds he snapp'd the tough ash-wood
In vain his foes around him clung;
With matchless force aside he flung
Their boldest,-as the bull, at bay,
Tosses the ban-dogs from nis way,
Through forty foes his path he made,
And safely gain'd the forest glade.

art.

XXXVII.

Scarce was this final conflict o'er,
When from the postern Redmond bore
Wilfrid, who, as of life bereft,
Had in the fatal Hall been left,'
Deserted there by all his train;
But Redmond saw, and turn'd again.-
Beneath an oak he laid him down,
That in the blaze gleam'd ruddy brown,
And then his mantle's clasp undid;
Matilda held his drooping head,
Till, given to breathe the freer air,
Returning life repaid their care.
He gazed on them with heavy sigh,-
"I could have wish'd even thus to die !"
No more he said-for now with speed
Each trooper had regain'd his steed;
The ready palfreys stood array'd,
For Redmond and for Rokeby's Maid;
Two Wilfrid on his horse sustain,
One leads his charger by the rein.
But oft Matilda look'd behind,
As up the Vale of Tees they wind,
Where far the mansion of her sires
Beacon'd the dale with midnight fires.
In gloomy arch above them spread,
The clouded heaven lower'd bloody red;
Beneath, in sombre light, the flood
Appear'd to roll in waves of blood.
Then, one by one, was heard to fall
The tower, the donjon-keep, the hall.
Each rushing down with thunder sound,
A space the conflagration drown'd;
Till, gathering strength, again it rose,
Announced its triumph in its close,
Shook wide its light the landscape o'er,
Then sunk-and Rokeby was no more!"

Rokeby.

CANTO SIXTH.

I.

THE summer sun, whose early power Was wont to gild Matilda's bower, And rouse her with his matin ray3

1 MS.-"Had in the smouldering hall been left." "The castle on fire has an awful sublimity, which would throw at a humble distance the boldest reaches of the pictorial .. We refer our readers to Virgil's ships, or to his Troy in flames; and though the Virgilian pictures be drawn on a very extensive canvas, with confidence, we assert that the rastle on fire is much more magnificent. It is, in truth, incomarably grand."-British Critic.

Her duteous orisons to pay,

That morning sun has three times seen
The flowers unfold on Rokeby green,
But sees no more the slumbers fly
From fair Matilda's hazel eye;
That morning sun has three times broke
On Rokeby's glades of elm and oak,
But, rising from their silvan screen,
Marks no gray turrets glance between.
A shapeless mass lie keep and tower,
That, hissing to the morning shower,
Can but with smouldering vapor pay
The early smile of summer day.
The peasant, to his labor bound,
Pauses to view the blacken'd mound,
Striving, amid the ruin'd space,
Each well-remember'd spot to trace.
That length of frail and fire-scorch'd wall
Once screen'd the hospitable hall;
When yonder broken arch was whole,
"Twas there was dealt the weekly dole,
And where yon tottering columns nod,
The chapel sent the hymn to God.-
So flits the world's uncertain span !
Nor zeal for God, nor love for man,
Gives mortal monuments a date
Beyond the power of Time and Fate.
The towers must share the builder's doom:
Ruin is theirs, and his a tomb:
But better boon benignant Heaven
To Faith and Charity has given,
And bids the Christian hope sublime
Transcend the bounds of Fate and Time'

II.

Now the third night of summer came,
Since that which witness'd Rokeby's flame.
On Brignall cliffs and Scargill brake
The owlet's homilies awake,

The bittern scream'd from rush and flag,
The raven slumber'd on his crag,
Forth from his den the otter drew,-
Grayling and trout their tyrant knew,
As between reed and sedge he peers,
With fierce round snout and sharpen'd ears,
Or, prowling by the moonbeam cool,
Watches the stream or swims the pool;-
Perch'd on his wonted eyrie high,
Sleep seals the tercelet's wearied eye,
That all the day had watch'd so well

4 MS." And bids our hopes ascend sublime
Beyond the bounds of Fate and Time"

"Faith, prevailing o'er his sullen doom,
As bursts the morn on night's unfathom'd gloom
Lured his dim eye to deathless hope sublime,
Beyond the realms of nature and of time."
CAMPBELL

The MS. has not this couplet.