And still rang the verse in his thrilling ear—
“Soft be thy step through the silence deep,
And move not the urn in the house of sleep;
For the viewless have fearful might!”
And many a Saga’s rhyme,
And legend of the grave,
That shadowy scene and time
Call’d back, to daunt the brave.
But he raised his arm—and the flame grew dim,
And the sword in its light seem’d to wave and swim,