At times the apprehension dawned, at times Faded. Oft turned he to his Mercian lords:-- 'How trow ye, friends? He speaks of what he knows! Good tidings these! Each evening while I muse Distinct they shine like yonder mountain range; Each morning, mists conceal them.' Passed a month; Then suddenly, as one that wakes from dream, Peada rose: 'Far rather would I serve Thy Christ,' he said, 'and thus Alfleda lose, Than win Alfleda, and reject thy Christ.' He spake: old Finan first gave thanks to God, Who grants the pure heart valour to believe, Then took his hand and led him to that Cross On Heaven-Field raised beneath the Roman Wall, That cross King Oswald's standard in the fight, That cross Cadwallon's sentence as he fell, 'That cross which conquered;'--there to God baptized; Likewise his thanes and earls. Meantime, far off In Penda's palace-keep the revel raged, High feast of rites impure. At banquet sat The monarch and his chiefs; chant followed chant Bleeding with wars foregone. The day went by, And, setting ere its time, a sanguine sun Dipped into tumult vast of gathering storm That soon incumbent leant from tower to tower And shook them to their base. As high within The gladness mounted, meeting storm with storm, Till cried that sacrificial priest whose knife Had pierced the warrior victim's willing throat That morn, 'Already with the gods we feast! Hark! round Valhalla swell the phantom wars!' Ere ceased the shout applausive, from his seat Uprose the warrior Saxo, in his hand The goblet, in the other Alp, his sword, Pointing to heaven. 'To Odin health!' he cried; 'Would that this hour he rode into this hall! He should not hence depart till blood of his Had reddened Sleipner's flank, his snow-white steed: This sword would shed that blood!' Warriors sixteen Leaped up in wrath, and for a moment rage Rocked the huge hall. But Saxo waved his sword, And, laughing, shouted, 'Odin's sons, be still! Count it no sin to battle with high gods! Great-hearted they! They give the blow and take! To Odin who was ever leal as I?' As sudden as it rose the tumult fell: So ceased the storm without: but with it ceased The rapture and the madness, and the shout: The wine-cup still made circuit; but the song Froze in mid-air. Strange shadow hung o'er all: Neighbour to neighbour whispered: courtiers slid Through doors scarce open. Rumour had arrived, If true or false none knew. The morrow morn From Penda's court the bravest fled in fear, Questioning with white lips, 'Will he slay his son?' Or skulked at distance. Penda by the throat Catching a white-cheeked courtier, cried: 'The truth! What whisper they in corners?' On his knees That courtier made confession.