Here sat the chiefs, in stormy war renown'd,

Or with the senate's peaceful honours crown'd

On various themes their mingled converse ran,

'Till Trollio to the monarch thus began.

"Your nice experience, prince, and art combined,

Famed thro' the north, long charmed my wondering mind:

This morn, I deem'd it lost; and scarce believ'd

Th' unwonted words my doubtful ear receiv'd.

Can then a mighty monarch eye with fear

The feeble motions of the mountaineer?

Is Christiern dazzled with the empty boast

Of Dalecarlia, and her rugged host?

A fiery race, undisciplined and loud,

They move to war, no army, but a crowd:

[Pg 54]

Hot from the bowl they stagger to the fight,

And rush impetuous with ungovern'd might.

Shall such resist us? I expect as soon

A midnight rainbow, or a star at noon.

Their quickly muster'd force will quickly yield,

 Prev. P 50/206 next