No longer resound with the strains of delight?
And why does the harp of the minstrel so gay,
Now rest in the gloom and the stillness of night?
But late as I travers'd these vallies long,
How high 'mid the air stream'd the banners of joy!
While the birth of prince Oswin, the boast of the song,
Gave mirth to each heart, as it beam'd in each eye.
What stranger art thou, who, in Cleveland so fair,
Of the fate of prince Oswin canst yet be untold?
How an old hoary sage had foreshown the young heir