Page:The Forest Sanctuary.pdf/123

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But he rais'd his arm—and the flame grew dim, And the sword in its light seem'd to wave and swim, And his faltering hand could not grasp it well— From the pale oak-wreath, with a clash it fell Through the chamber of the dead!

The deep tomb rang with the heavy sound, And the urn lay shiver'd in fragments round; And a rush, as of tempests, quench'd the fire, And the scatter'd dust of his warlike sire Was strewn on the Champion's head.

The stars were just fading, one by one, The clouds were just ting'd by the early sun, When there stream'd through the cavern a torch's flame, And the brother of Sigurd the valiant came To seek him in the tomb.