VALKYRIUR SONG.

The Valkyriur, or Fatal Sisters of Northern mythology, were supposed to single out the warriors who were to die in battle, and be received into the halls of Odin.

When a Northern chief fell gloriously in war, his obsequies were honoured with all possible magnificence. His arms, gold and silver, war-horse, domestic attendants, and whatever else he held most dear, were placed with him on the pile. His dependants and friends frequently made it a point of honour to die with their leader, in order to attend on his shade in Valhalla, or the Palace of Odin. And lastly, his wife was generally consumed with him on

the same pile.

See Mallet's Northern Antiquities, Herbert's Helga, &c.

Tremblingly flash'd th' inconstant meteor light,
Showing thin forms like virgins of this earth,
Save that all signs of human joy or grief,
The flush of passion, smile or tear, had seem'd
On the fix'd brightness of each dazzling cheek
Strange and unnatural.

MILMAN.

THE Sea-king woke from the troubled sleep

Of a vision-haunted night,

And he look'd from his bark o'er the gloomy deep,

And counted the streaks of light;

For the red sun's earliest ray

Was to rouse his bands that day,

To the stormy joy of fight!

But the dreams of rest were still on earth,

And the silent stars on high,

And there wav'd not the smoke of one cabin-hearth

'Midst the quiet of the sky;

And along the twilight bay

In their sleep the hamlets lay,

For they knew not the Norse were nigh!

The Sea-king look'd o'er the brooding wave:

He turn'd to the dusky shore,

And there seem'd, through the arch of a tide-worn cave,

A gleam, as of snow, to pour;
And forth, in watery light,

Mov'd phantoms, dimly white,

Which the garb of woman bore.

Slowly they mov'd to the billow side;

And the forms, as they grew more clear, Seem'd each on a tall pale steed to ride,

And a shadowy crest to rear,

And to beckon with faint hand

From the dark and rocky strand,

And to point a gleaming spear.

Then a stillness on his spirit fell,

Before th' unearthly train,

For he knew Valhalla's daughters well,

The choosers of the slain!

And a sudden rising breeze

Bore across the moaning seas

To his ear their thrilling strain:

"There are songs in Odin's Hall,
For the brave, ere night to fall!
Doth the great sun hide his ray?—
He must bring a wrathful day!
Sleeps the falchion in its sheath?

Swords must do the work of death!

Regner!-sea-king!—thee we call !———
There is joy in Odin's Hall.

"Regner! tell thy fair-hair'd bride

She must slumber at thy side!

Tell the brother of thy breast
Ev'n for him thy grave hath rest!
Tell the raven-steed which bore thee,
When the wild wolf fled before thee,
He too with his lord must fall-
There is room in Odin's Hall!

"Lo! the mighty sun looks forth-
Arm! thou leader of the north!

Lo! the mists of twilight fly-
We must vanish, thou must die!
By the sword and by the spear,
By the hand that knows not fear,
Sea-king! nobly shalt thou fall!—
There is joy in Odin's Hall!"

There was arming heard on land and wave,

When afar the sunlight spread,

And the phantom forms of the tide-worn cave

With the mists of morning fled.

But at eve, the kingly hand

Of the battle-axe and brand,

Lay cold on a pile of dead!

THE CAVERN OF THE THREE TELLS.

SWISS TRADITION.

The three founders of the Helvetic Confederacy are thought to sleep in a cavern near the Lake of Lucerne. The herdsmen call them the Three Tells; and say that they lie there in their antique garb, in quiet slumber; and when Switzerland is in her utmost need, they will awaken and regain the liberties of the land.

See Quarterly Review, No. 44.

The Grütli, where the confederates held their nightly meetings, is a meadow on the shore of the Lake of Lucerne, or Lake of the Forest-cantons, here called the Forest-sea.

OH! enter not yon shadowy cave,

Seek not the bright spars there,

Though the whispering pines that o'er it wave,

With freshness fill the air:

For there the Patriot Three,

In the garb of old array'd,

By their native Forest-sea
On a rocky couch are laid.