656 More Rehiques of Rowley. 
Doen fparkle inne the daie fo maniefolde, 
Lyche owndes ov roughlie lakes bie moonie nyghte, 
Or. welkin whan wyth lemes ov wintrie lyghte 
The ftarres ywrapped never lofe their fheene 
Botte thro theire lowie gytes do flame mo bryghte, 
Leffe pranke mo fowghle the Inglyth do bewrene. 
Skald. ~— Echone as flowe he ftrydes his wepens doth befeene, 
And dernlie bie hys hylfterde blade dothe fware 
_ ‘To weelde ytte braglie, lette hym lyve or dye. 
Darke ynne theire yren mailles theie grymlie fare, 
Lyche a blacke ftormecloude failynge thro the fkye, 
Ymeng whos fhadowie mountaynes Deufes lye, 
Who mo and mo yttes fwarthie fkyrtes unfurle 
Dyngynge the fee benethe in mokie dye, 
Wyth fwellynge rore the yren billowes curle, 
And flappe theire thonderynge wynges and fierie levyns hurle, 
Rowene, ~Fondlie mie fowghle uponne the glome doth loure ~ 
Ov helmes with footie horfehayre man’de fo fyne : 
And yif perchaunce the fhiftynge harlboltes poure 
‘Fheir tyde ov bryghtneffe on the dazed eyne 
Swole fhodders thro mie pantyng bofom fiyen : 
Lyche fyfhe theie feeme yatte in the fholes do plae 
And now and then their fylver bellies thyne 
Opiorned fudden to the funnie raye. 
Ah me how nere theie come ! 
Skald. Brethren your flughornes fwaye, 
The Skaldes Woden, kynge ov floughterre, heare, 
Synz. Stie adowne dhie yren trone, 
Staynerre ov the roddie {peare, . 
_ Nowe ymeng thie ofisprynge wone. 
Woden, rore dhie loudeft yelle, — 
Lyfte dhie fheelde yatte glomes the daie ; 
Rownde yttes brymme the Daungeres dwelle, _ 
Nethe yttes holiowe ynnes Dy{maie. 
With dhie hondes the fetterres brafte 
Yartte the houndes ov helle do holde : 
Hydder, hydder, hyghte hem hafte 
Sone dher foode fhul ftrowe the wolde. 
Herke theire dynnynge caves theie quyghte 
And the barke ov harowe baie ! 
Joyene the outhees, fonnes ov fyghte, 
/ Wylde and wyde the warre-whoope braie. 
Rowene. Ah me, O fave! Ghatte feare doth lappe mie hedde. 
Skald. Syke-whan the twylyghte ov the goddes is nie 
Shul be the grone ov kynde yfhryghte for dredde. 
Rowene. The hylle doth rocke; pale miftes befwymme mine eie ; 
Mie {wevende fynfe forgoeth ; I thynke to die. 
Skald, Syke ever bee oure rore ov onfet, mayde. 
Rowene. _ And all at once yhorlen boltes didde flie 
' And forthe dydde brafte meynte fkie-uplemyng blayde 
And with farre-dynnynge ftrakes han mie poore gofte yquayde. 
The Skaldes Wyth a woofe ov twartynge dartes 
bre Battayle palles the fythand ares 
Erthe ytromp!ede backward ftartes 
Goblynes thro the fhadowe glare. 
. Nethe 
