ANNUAL REGISTER, 13790, 
Heaven’s azure vault, but cloudlefs radiance gild 
The fky, and ceafelefs verdure deck the field. 
Foremoft the king advanc’d, and bade the found, 
That calls to battle, rife: his bards renown’d, 
Ofwald and Eric thus his will obey : 
The plain re-echoes to the lofty lay, 
« Dark on his cloud, unfeen by mortal eye, 
The ruler of the battle fits on high, 
Dread Odin, firft of heavenly powers ador’d, 
With fhafts of death ten thoufand quivers ftor’d 
Stand by his fide: The fatal bow he bends, 
And wide around the rapid fhower defcends, 
In filence flits thro’ air each viewlefs dart, 
And fills with torturing pangs the daftard’s heart, 
To Hela’s drear abodes embrown’d in night, 
Their feeble fpirits urge their downward flight. 
Wot fo the brave, no fears inds controul, 
Unfelt their wounds, unv vd is their foul, 
Death then is more than victory !—The God 
Of battle hails them to his bright abode. 
For them he bids the plenteous banquet fhine, 
And the bowl flow with Hydromel divine, 
Rife then, exulting in your might arife ! 
Conquett or death alike the valiant prize. , 
This, fhall your days on earth with honour crown 5 
‘That, feat you mid the gods, and chiefs of old renown,’s 
While thus the bards awak’d th’ infpiring fong, 
Extatic fury feiz’d the marital throng : 
And, as the clofe-compacted lines advance, 
(Thro’ winter’s watry cloud thus fun-beams glance, 
When threatning ftorms th’ unfhelter’d fwain affright) 
On either fide full many a gallant knight, 
Burft thro’ thegloom of war with loofen’d rein, 
Couch’d the ftrong lance, and blaz’d athwart the plain, 
More dreadful now the din of battle grows ; 
Spears clafh with fpears, with bucklers bucklers clofe, 
Shrill flits the arrow from the twanging ftring, 
And flones on batter’d mail rebounding ring. 
The keen-edg’d falchion, helm, and hawberk rends; 
‘The ponderous axe with thundering found defcends, 
The trump’s loud clangors mixt with dying egies, 
And fhouts of wrathful heroes fhake the fkics. 
Th’ unhallow’d fifters to the clouds repair, 
And darkly-hovering on the wings of air, 
Like famifh’d vulturs, mark’d with keen delight 
‘The fall of warriors, and the wafte of fight. 
Here, furious Hacon with refiftlefs force \ 
Thro’ yielding ranks impells his foaming horfe, 
oo 
* 
Emania’s 
