1810.7 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
HAROLD awp TOSTI, 
44 Tragetly, in three Acts, with Chorus. 
(Concluded from p. 321.) 
ACT IIT: 
_. Scene.mHarorp, Epwarp, EpitTiA, 
Dosrt, at table inthe long Hall. 
Minstrels sing. 
WHEN Freedomcame to Albion’s shore, 
Where, onthe airy heath, 
He cull’d his wild-weed crown, 
The equal sisters met 
His banners weaving, 
Thread of Roman entrails twin’d 
in the speary loom they strain, 
Heads of tyrants nod below. 
An gore of fallen slaves 
They drench the crimson woof, 
*~ And o’er the ended task 
With ghastly pleasure scream. 
Their ash-pale steeds with living snakes 
They urgeathwart the murky air, 
And bear to Alfred’s hand - 
The banners red. . 
Away, away, away, 
To where on rising blasts 
The smell of carnage mounts, 
“To where with eager ear 
The fleet maids drink 
The sound of. boiling fight! 
From ranks that speed to war 
The growing murmurs rise ; 
The pattering sleet of darts, 
‘The din of thundering shields, 
The crash of falling hosts, 
And all the storm of battle. 
‘The bellowing horn, the clashing steely 
The victor’s shout of joy, 
The yell of writhing pain, 
The tread of loud pursuit, 
Are echoed from the sky. 
From flying foes arose the moans 
For he whose hand unfurls 
The banners red, 
Shall on his victor brow 
The oaken wreath receive. 
‘Within what cave of mist 
Some frowning Nornie veil’d 
‘Lhe banners red, 
_ While Britain groan’d beneath 
The iron-scepter’d Dane, » 
Edward, ’twas thine to know) 
And wide to every wind 
The floating flag unfurl. 
Earl Goodwin saw the purple beam, 
And switt his gleaming blade unsheath’d 5 
Earl Tosti saw the bloody cloud, 
And shook in air his quivering lance: 
Earl Harold saw the meteor flame, 
And crown’d his front with pramixe helm, 
Hela from the deep 
Let slip the dogs of war 
To gorge in corse-strown wilds, 
_ And howl dismay. 
Henceforth to fields of flight 
. - The raven leads, 
| Montuziy Mag. No, 199. 
\ 
Harold and Tosti, a Tragedy. At? 
Or dips in briny waves 
Her drooping wing : 
The Danes in hollow ships 
Rave hid their skulking fear. 
No more with shining sword 
They shape the cup of sculls 
To quaff with barbarous joy 
The blood of foes. 
No more athwart the land 
They shriek the whoop of war, 
Unsparing plunder’s harbinger 5 
Nor reap the fertile coast, 
Steering their nightly way 
By glare of burning towns : 
Nor starving widows pine 
Along forsaken shores, 
Their captive children goney 
Their daring ‘husbands slain. 
Then speed the goldva cup 
In many a sparkling round, 
it beams on peace and joy: 
And long may Britain’s sons unfurl 
The banners red, 
For conquering Fide soar wove! 
Edi. Wherefore should man delight i in 
praising war, 
And ee his cruelty in songs ? 
Edw. ell bid them change the lay te 
; Oe themes, 
Edi, The feast-song shduld be tun’d to joy 
alone. 
Edw. And why not every song? The 
kind immortals i 
Can never grudge to see their only childreg 
Snatch every fleeting pleasure as it starts. 
_ Man feels they donot, is asham’d of griefy 
And hides in twilight solitudes to pine. 
‘Editha, let me pledge thee ina cup 
Of beaming wine. 
Edi. My lord, I shail obey. 
Here’s to thy health. 
Edw. I thank thee—Now the gobilet—» 
Thy lips have hung a rosy garland on it. | 
Edi. Peace! they piepare to sing again. 
My father, ~ 
Hast thou not heard some rude-voic’d clowgz 
below 
Require to see earl Tosti? 
q. I have heard. [ Goes, 
Minstrels SING’. 
For him who falls in fig oht, 
Athwart the gulf of night and storm 
Shall bend the radiant anton 
The burning bridge of gods. 
Braga strikes the trembling harp, 
Swells the strain of greeting high 
The hero bathes in praise. 
The apples of eternal youth 
Iduna culls. 
The glittering arms oi festal fight 
Tuisko brings. 
« To Odin’s long repast of mirth 
Young Heimdal guides, 5 
The blue-eyed maids of war present 
The mantling mead. 
For him who from the fight 
Qn conquering step returnsy, 
SH Shai 
