following dreadful Song: which, when they had finished, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped fix to the north, and as many to the south. Thefe were the Valkyriur, female divinities, fervants of Odin (or Woden) in the Gothic mythology. Their name fignifies Choofers of the Slain. They were mounted on fwift horfes, with drawn fwords in their hands; and in the throng of battle felected fuch as were defined to flaughter, and conducted them to Valkälla, the hall of Odin, or Paradife of the Brave, where they attended the banquet, and ferved the departed heroes with horns of mead and ale.

Now the ftorm begins to lower,
(Hafte, the loom of hell prepare,)

Iron-fleet of arrowy shower

Hurtles in the darken'd air.

Glittering lances are the loom,'

Where the dusky warp we ftrain,
Weaving many a foldier's doom,
Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane.

See the grifly texture grow!

('Tis of human entrails made) And the weights, that play below, Each a gafping warrior's head.

Shafts

Shafts for fhuttles, dipp'd in gore,
Shoot the trembling cords along.
Sword, that once a monarch bore,
Keep the tiffue close and strong,

Mista, black terrific Maid,
Sangrida, and Hilda, fee!
Join the wayward work to aid :
'Tis the woof of victory.

Ere the ruddy fun be fet,

Pikes must shiver, javelins fing,' Blade with clattering buckler meet, Hauberk crash, and helmet, ring.

(Weave the crimson web of war)
Let us go, and let us fly,

Where our friends the conflict fhare,
Where they triumph, where they die.

As the paths of Fate we tread,

Wading through th' enfanguined field, Gondula, and Geira, fpread

O'er the youthful King your fhield,

We the reins to flaughter give,

Ours to kill, and ours to spare:

Spite of danger he shall live.

(Weave the crimson web of war.)

They,

They, whom once the defert beach
Pent within its bleak domain,
Soon their ample fway fhall ftretch
O'er the plenty of the plain.

Low the dauntless Earl is laid,

Gored with many a gaping wound :

Fate demands a nobler head;

Soon a King fhall bite the ground.

Long his lofs fhall Eirin* weep,
Ne'er again his likeness fee;
Long her strains in forrow steep:
Strains of immortality!

Horror covers all the heath,

Clouds of carnage blot the fun. Sifters, weave the web of death.Sifters, cease: the work is done.

Hail the task, and hail the hands!
Songs of joy and triumph fing!
Joy to the victorious bands;

Triumph to the younger King!

Mortal, thou that hear'ft the tale,
Learn the tenour of our fong.
Scotland, through each winding vale
Far and wide the notes prolong.

* Ireland.

Sifters,

Sifters, hence with fpurs of fpeed:

Each her thundering faulchion wield: Each beftride her fable fteed,

Hurry, hurry to the field,

No. XLIII,

THE DESCENT OF ODIN.

FROM THE NORSE TONGUE.......GRAY.

The original is to be found in Bartholinus, de caufis contemnendæ mortis; Hafnice, 1689, quarto.

Upreis Odinn allda gautr, &c.

UPROSE the King of Men with speed,
And faddled straight his coal-black ftecd:
Down the yawning fteep he rode, .

That leads to Hela's drear abode. *

Him the Dog of Darkness fpied;

His fhaggy throat he open'd wide,
While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd,
Foam and human gore diftill'd:

Hoarse

* Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothie nations, confited of nine worlds, to which were devoted all fuch as died of ficknefs, old age, or by any other means than in battle. Over it prefided Bela, the Goddess of Death.