Mutely invoked St. David and St. Bran 85 To charge a stout north-western with their blessing; Then clear'd his throat and lustily began A howl of vowels huge from Taliessin. Prone fell the crews before the thundering tunes, In words like mountains roll'd the enormous runes! The excited hound, symphonious with the song, 86 Yell'd as if heaven and earth were rent asunder; The rocks Orphean seem'd to dance along; The affrighted whales plunged waves affrighted under; Polyphlosboian, onwards booming bore The deaf'ning, strident, rauque, Homeric roar! As lions lash themselves to louder ire, 87 By his own song the Knight sublimely stung Caught the full oestro of the poet's fire, And grew more stunning every note he sung! In each dread blast a patriot's soul exhales, And Norway quakes before the storm of Wales. Whether, as grateful Cymri should believe, 88 That blatant voice heroic burst the bags, (For sure it might the caves of Boreas cleave Much more the stitchwork of such losel hags!) Or heaven, on any terms, resolved on peace; The wind sprang up before the Knight would cease. Never again hath singer heard such praise 89 As Gawaine heard; for never since hath song Found out the secret how the wind to raise!-- Around the charmer now the seamen throng, And bribe his blest attendance on their toil, With bales of bear-skin and with tuns of oil. Well pleased to leave the inhospitable shores, 90 The artful Knight yet slowly seem'd to yield.-- Now through the ocean plunge the brazen prores; They pass the threshold of the world congeal'd; Surprise the snorting mammoths of the main; And pile the decks with Pelions of the slain. When, in the midmost harvest of the spoil, 91 Pounce comes a storm unspeakably more hideous Than that which drove upon the Lybian soil Anchises' son, the pious and perfidious, When whooping Notus, as the Nine assure us, Rush'd out to play with Africus and Eurus. Torn each from each, or down the maelstrom whirl'd, 92 Or grasp'd and gulph'd by the devouring sea, Or on the ribs of hurrying icebergs hurl'd, The sunder'd vessels vanish momently. Scarce through the blasts which swept his own, Gawaine Heard the crew shrieking "Chant the runes again!" Far other thoughts engaged the prescient knight, 93 Fast to a plank he lash'd himself and hound; Scarce done, than, presto, shooting out of sight, The enormous eddy spun him round and round, Along the deck a monstrous wave had pour'd, Caught up the plank and toss'd it overboard.