Foremost mid the peers of France,[5] ORLANDO hurls the death-fraught lance; Where DURLINDANA aims the blow, To darkness sinks the faithless foe; The horn with magic sound Spreads deep dismay around; Unborn to bleed, the chieftain goes, And scatters wide his Paynim foes; The genius hovers o'er the purple plain Where OLIVERO tramples on the slain; BAYARDO speeds his furious course, High towers ROGERO in his matchless force. Romance the heighten'd tale has caught, Forth from the sad monastic cell, Where fiction with devotion loves to dwell, The sacred legend[6] flies with many a wonder fraught; Deep roll the papal[7] thunders round, And everlasting wrath to rebel reason sound. Hark! Superstition sounds to war's alarms, War stalks o'er Palestine with scorching breath, And triumphs in the feast of death; All Europe flies to arms: Enthusiast courage spreads her piercing sound, Devotion caught the cry, and woke the echo around. Romance[8] before the army flies, New scenes await her wondering eyes; Awhile she firms her GODFREY's throne, And makes Arabia's magic lore her own. And hark! resound, in mingled sound, The clang of arms, the shriek of death; Each streaming gash bedews the ground, And deep and hollow groans load the last struggling breath: Wide thro' the air the arrows fly, Darts, shields, and swords, commix'd appear; Deep is the cry, when thousands die, When COEUR DE LION's arm constrains to fear: Aloft the battle-axe in air Whirls around confus'd despair; Nor Acre's walls can check his course, Nor Sarzin millions stay his force. Indignant, firm the warrior stood, The hungry lion gapes for food; His fearless eye beheld him nigh, Unarm'd, undaunted, saw the beast proceed: Romance, o'erhovering, saw the monster die, And scarce herself believ'd the more than wond'rous deed. And now, with more terrific mien, She quits the sad degenerate scene; With many a talisman of mightiest pow'r, Borne in a rubied car, sublime she flies, Fire-breathing griffins waft her thro' the skies; Around her head the innocuous tempest lowers, To Gallia's favour'd realm she goes, And quits her magic state, and plucks her lovely rose.[9] Imagination waves her wizard wand, Dark shadows mantle o'er the land; The lightnings flash, the thunders sound, Convulsive throbs the labouring ground;[10] What fiends, what monsters, circling round, arise! High towers of fire aloft aspire, Deep yells resound amid the skies, Yclad in arms, to Fame's alarms Her magic warrior flies.