"This heard and this believed, the direful King28
Convenes his Eorl-born and prepares his powers,
Relates the omens, and the tasks they bring,
And points the Valkyrs to the Cymrian towers.
Dreadest in war—and wisest in the hall,
Stands my great Sire—the Saxon's Herman-Saul.[5]
"He to secure allies beyond the sea29
Departs—but first (for well he loved his child)
He drew me to his breast, and tenderly
Chiding my tears, he spoke, and speaking smil'd,
'Whate'er betides thy father or thy land,
Far from our dangers Astrild[6] woos thy hand.
"'Beorn, the bold son of Sweyn, the Göthland king30
Whose ocean war-steeds on the Baltic deeps
Range their blue pasture—for thy love shall bring
As nuptial-gifts, to Cymri's mountain keeps
Arm'd men and thunder. Happy is the maid,
Whose charms lure armies to her Country's aid
What, while I heard, the terror and the woe,31
Of one who, vow'd to the meek Christian God,
Found the Earth's partner in the Heaven's worst foe!
For ne'er o'er blazing altars Slaughter trod
Redder with blood of saints remorsely slain,
Than Beorn, the Incarnate Fenris[7] of the main.
"Yet than such nuptials more I fear'd the frown32
Of my dread father;—motionless I stood,
Rigid in horror, mutely bending down
The eyes that dared not weep.—So Solitude
Found me, a thing made soul-less by despair,
Till tears broke way, and with the tears flow'd prayer."
Again Genevra paused: and, beautiful33
As Art hath imaged Faith, look'd up to heaven,
With eyes that glistening smiled. Along the lull
Of air, waves sigh'd—the winds of stealing Even
Murmur'd, birds sung, the leaflet rustling stirr'd;
His own loud heart was all the list'ner heard.
"Scarce did my Sire return (his mission done),34
To loose the Valkyrs on the Cymrian foe,
Then came the galley which the sea-king's son
Sent for the partner of his realms of snow;
Shuddering, recoiling, forth I stole at night,
To the wide forest with wild thoughts of flight.
"I reach'd the ruin'd halls wherein so oft35
Lost Genevieve had mused lone hours away,
When halting wistful there, a strange and soft
Slumber fell o'er me, or, more sooth to say,
A slumber not, but rather on my soul
A life-dream clear as hermit-visions stole.
"I saw an aged and majestic form,36
Robed in the spotless weeds thy Druids wear,
I heard a voice deep as when coming storm
Sends its first murmur through the heaving air:
'Return,' it said, 'return, and dare the sea,
The Eye that sleeps not looks from heaven on thee.'
"The form was gone, the Voice was hush'd, and grief37
Fled from my heart; I trusted and obey'd:
Weak still, my weakness leant on my belief;
I saw the sails unfurl, the headlands fade;
I saw my father, last upon the strand,
Veiling proud sorrow with his iron hand.