Nor then, with more delighted ear, The circle round her drew, Than ours, when gather'd round to hear Our songstress' at Saint Cloud. Few happy hours poor mortals pass,Then give those hours their due, And rank among the foremost class Our evenings at Saint Cloud. The Dance of Death." 1815. I. NIGHT and morning 3 were at meeting Cocks had sung their earliest greeting; For no paly beam yet shone On the heights of Mount Saint John; Where the soldier lay, Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain, Though death should come with day. II. "Tis at such a tide and hour, Wizard, witch, and fiend have power, And ghastly forms through mist and shower Gleam on the gifted ken; And then the affrighted prophet's ear Among the sons of men ;- Had follow'd stout and stern, Where, through battle's rout and reel, Valiant Fassiefern. Through steel and shot he leads no more, III. 'Lone on the outskirts of the host, And heard, through darkness far aloof, When down the destined plain, Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard, For Flodden's fatal plain; The yet unchristen'd Dane. The Seer, who watch'd them ride the storm, IV. Song. "Wheel the wild dance While lightnings glance, And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave, To sleep without a shroud. 1 These lines were written after an evening spent at Saint Cloud with the late Lady Alvanley and her daughters, one of whom was the songstress alluded to in the text. 2 Originally published in 1815, in the Edinburgh Annual Register, vol. 7 3 MS.-" Dawn and darkness." 4 See note, ante, p. 505. 5 MS.-"Oft came the clang," &c. 6 See ante, Marmion, canto v., stanzas 24, 25, 26, and Appendix, Note 4 A., p. 165. |