Haste, my sons, to war's alarms, Triumph in the clang of arms; Joy amid the warlike toil, Feed the raven with your spoil; Go, prepare the eagle's food, Go, and drench the wolf with blood, 'Till ye shall hear dark HELA's call, And virgins waft ye to my hall; There, wrapt in clouds, the shadowy throng To airy combat glide along; 'Till wearied with the friendly fight, SERIMNER's flesh recruits their might; There, whilst I grasp the Roman skull, With hydromel sweet-smiling full, The festive song shall echo round, The Scald repeat the deathless sound: Then, THOR, when thou from fight shall cease, When death shall lay that arm in peace, Still shall the nations fear thy nod, The first of warriors now, and then their god; But be each heart with rage possest, Let vengeance glow in every breast; Let conquest fell the Roman wall, Revenge on Rome my ASGARD's fall. The Druid throng shall fall away, And sink beneath your victor sway; No more shall nations bow the knee, Vanquish'd TARANIS, to thee; No more upon the sacred stone, TENTATES, shall thy victims groan; The vanquish'd ODIN, Rome, shall cause thy fall, And his destruction shake thy proud imperial wall. Yet, my faithful friends, beware Luxury's enerving snare; 'Twas this that shook our ASGARD's dome, That drove us from our native home; 'Twas this that smooth'd the way for victor Rome: Gaul's fruitful plains invite your sway, Conquest points the destin'd way; Conquest shall attend your call, And your success shall gild still more VALHALLA's hall. So spake the dauntless chief, and pierc'd his breast, Then rush'd to seize the seat of endless rest. BION. * * * * * _THE DEATH OF MOSES._ Israel, my hour is come! Borne on the wings of time Death marks his destin'd prey. Now in the fullness of my age, Ere faint my shrunken limbs wax weak, Ere dim my rayless eye, Of years and honours full, I seek the tomb. Offspring of ABRAM, MOSES' guardian voice No more shall breathe the will Of your protecting God. For not to me is given On Canaan's promis'd land At last to rest in peace: For not to me is given O'er Jordan's barrier flood To reach the abundant clime: On Moab's pathless plains Must MOSES rest in peace.