Screaming with agony and fright,
He bolted twenty feet upright-
-The peasant still can show the dint,
Where his hoofs lighted on the flint.-
From Arthur's hand the goblet flew,
Scattering a shower of fiery dew,1
That burn'd and blighted where it fell!2
The frantic steed rush'd up the dell,3
As whistles from the bow the reed;
Nor bit nor rein could check his speed,
Until he gained the hill;

Then breath and sinew fail'd apace,
And, reeling from the desperate race,
He stood, exhausted, still.

The Monarch, breathless and amazed,
Back on the fatal castle gazed-

Nor tower nor donjon could he spy,

Darkening against the morning sky;4

1 [MS.

-" of burning)
blazing S

dew."]

The author has an indistinct recollection of an adventure somewhat similar to that which is here ascribed to King Arthur, having befallen one of the ancient Kings of Denmark. The horn in which the burning liquor was presented to that Monarch, is said still to be preserved in the Royal Museum at Copenhagen. 3 [MS." Curb, bit, and bridle he disdain'd,

4

Until a mountain crest he gain'd,

Then stopp'd;-exhausted, all amazed,
The rider down the valley gazed,

But tower nor donjon," &c.]

“We now gained a view of the Vale of St John's, a very

narrow dell, hemmed in by mountains, through which a small

But, on the spot where once they frown'd,
The lonely streamilet brawl'd around
A tufted knoll, where dimly shone
Fragments of rock and rifted stone. 1
Musing on this strange hap the while,
The King wends back to fair Carlisle ;

brook makes many meanderings, washing little enclosures of grassground, which stretch up the rising of the hills. In the widest part of the dale you are struck with the appearance of an ancient ruined castle, which seems to stand upon the summit of a little mount, the mountains around forming an amphitheatre. This massive bulwark shows a front of various towers, and makes an awful, rude, and Gothic appearance, with its lofty turrets and ragged battlements; we traced the galleries, the bending arches, the buttresses. The greatest antiquity stands characterised in its architecture; the inhabitants near it assert it is an antediluvian structure.

"The traveller's curiosity is roused, and he prepares to make a nearer approach, when that curiosity is put upon the rack, by his being assured, that, if he advances, certain genii who govern the place, by virtue of their supernatural art and necromancy, will strip it of all its beauties, and by enchantment, transform the magic walls. The vale seems adapted for the habitation of such beings; its gloomy recesses and retirements look like haunts evil spirits. There was no delusion in the report; we were soon convinced of its truth; for this piece of antiquity, so venerable and noble in its aspect, as we drew near changed its figure, and proved no other than a shaken massive pile of rocks, which stand in the midst of this little vale, disunited from the adjoining mountains, and have so much the real form and resemblance of a castle, that they bear the name of the Castle Rocks of St John."-HUTCHINSON'S Excursion to the Lakes, p. 121.

[MS." But on the spot where once they frown'd,

The stream begirt a silvan mound,

With rocks in chatter'd fragments crown'd"]

And cares, that cumber royal sway,
Wore memory of the past away.

XI.

"Full fifteen years, and more, were sped,
Each brought new wreaths to Arthur's head.
Twelve bloody fields, with glory fought,
The Saxons to subjection brought: 1
Rython, the mighty giant, slain

By his good brand, relieved Bretagne :
The Pictish Gillamore in fight,

And Roman Lucius, own'd his might;
And wide were through the world renown'd 2
The glories of his Table Round.

Each knight, who sought adventurous fame,
To the bold court of Britain came,
And all who suffer'd causeless wrong,
From tyrant proud, or faitour strong,
Sought Arthur's presence to complain,
Nor there for aid implored in vain.3

XII.

"For this the King, with pomp and pride, Held solemn court at Whitsuntide,

1 Arthur is said to have defeated the Saxons in twelve pitched battles, and to have achieved the other feats alluded to in the text. 2 [MS." And wide was blazed the world around."]

[MS." Sought before Arthur to complain,

Nor there for succour sued in vain."]

And summon'd Prince and Peer,

All who owed homage for their land,

Or who craved knighthood from his hand, Or who had succour to demand,

To come from far and near.

At such high tide, were glee and game
Mingled with feats of martial fame,
For many a stranger champion came,
In lists to break a spear;

And not a knight of Arthur's host,
Save that he trode some foreign coast,
But at this feast of Pentecost

Before him must appear.

Ah, Minstrels! when the Table Round
Arose, with all its warriors crown'd,
There was a theme for bards to sound
In triumph to their string!

Five hundred years are past and gone,
But Time shall draw his dying groan,
Ere he behold the British throne

Begirt with such a ring!

XIII.

"The heralds named the appointed spot, As Caerleon or Camelot,

Or Carlisle fair and free.

At Penrith, now, the feast was set,

And in fair Eamont's vale were met

The flower of Chivalry.1

There Galaad sate with manly grace,
Yet maiden meekness in his face;
There Morolt of the iron mace, 2

And love-lorn Tristrem there:

And Dinadam with lively glance,
And Lanval with the fairy lance,
And Mordred with his look askance,
Brunor and Bevidere.

Why should I tell of numbers more?
Sir Cay, Sir Banier, and Sir Bore,
Sir Carodąc the keen,
The gentle Gawain's courteous lore,
Hector de Mares and Pellinore,

1["The whole description of Arthur's Court is picturesque and appropriate."-Quarterly Review.

2 The characters named in the following stanza are all of them more or less distinguished in the romances which treat of King Arthur and his Round Table, and their names are strung together according to the established custom of minstrels upon such oceasions; for example, in the ballad of the Marriage of Sir Ga

waine:

"Sir Lancelot, Sir Stephen bolde,
They rode with them that daye,
And, foremost of the companye,

There rode the stewarde Kaye.

"Soe did Sir Banier, and Sir Bore,
And eke Sir Garratte keen,
Sir Tristrem too, that gentle knight,
To the forest fresh and greene."