Page:Records of Woman.pdf/181

Rh

The Scalds had chaunted in Runic rhyme, Their songs of the sword and the olden time, And a solemn thrill, as the harp-chords rung, Had breath'd from the walls where the bright spears hung.

But the swell was gone from the quivering string, They had summen'd a softer voice to sing, And a captive girl, at the warriors' call, Stood forth in the midst of that frowning hall.

Lonely she stood:—in her mournful eyes Lay the clear midnight of southern skies, And the drooping fringe of their lashes low, Half veil'd a depth of unfathom'd wo.

Stately she stood—tho' her fragile frame Seem'd struck with the blight of some inward flame, And her proud pale brow had a shade of scorn, Under the waves of her dark hair worn.