V

Then, five days later, shout and yell, And shrieks and howls of slaughter fell, Upon the peaceful homestead came. 'Mid flashing sword, and axe, and flame, Snatched by a Viking's iron grasp, From his slain mother's dying clasp, Saved from the household's flaming grave, Edric was dragged, a destined slave, Some northern dame to serve, or heed The flocks that on the Saeter feed. Still, with scarce conscious hold he clung To the white cat, that closely hung Seeking her refuge in his arm, Her shelter in the wild alarm-- And who can tell how oft his moan Was soothed by her soft purring tone? Time keeping with retracted claw, Or patting with her velvet paw; Although of home and friends bereft, Still this one comforter was left, So lithe, so swift, so soft, so white, She might have seemed his guardian sprite. The rude Danes deemed her such; And whispered tales of 'disir' bound To human lords, as bird or hound. Nor one 'mid all the fleet was found To hurt one tender paw. And when the captive knelt to pray None would his orisons gainsay; For as they marked him day by day, Increased their wondering awe.