Ode XVI. the Ghost of Azo

'Strike the shell,' said the hero hoar, Sudden ceased the banquet's roar; The merry minstrels fire the string, Azo's hapless doom they sing, By their lord in conslict slain; Faded flower of Aquitain, Faded in life's rosy spring!

On his arm of might reclined, Winding in his pensive mind His deeds of grace and deeds of hate, The awful power of Rodolph sate. His knights and minions all around Fondly quaffed the extatic sound, Nor heard the approaching peal of fate.

The lamps burn blue,' pale Oric cried, And threw his glittering harp aside; The glittering harp with dismal breath Wailed to the leaden hand of Death! 'Ha! No bidden guest art thou!' The potent screamed with frantic brow, Mien of fear, and eyes of wrath.

O'er each knight and tinseled minion Horror spread her sable pinion, As the visionary shade The terrors of his spell displayed. 'Hark, hark! The echoing vallies groan 'Beneath the powers that shield my son 'In horrent pomp and steel arrayed.

'On my dim ear from afar 'Yells the thunder of the war. 'Evil scath thee, lord of blood! 'Vengeance in her purple flood 'Thee and thy many soon shall sweep, 'Like me to dwell with Night and Sleep 'And Misery's funereal brood!'

Draws the peer his flaming brand, His trembling train around him stand, As all appalled with ghastly glare He idly dares the fleeting air. 'To horse! To horse!' a menial cries, 'Rollo's hundred banners rise 'Blazing o'er the mountain bare.

'Glory calls. Away!' In vain! The morrow o'er thy desert reign Saw Ruin stretch his dreary shade. Slaughter mailed, and meagre Dread, Penury and Sorrow there, Famine gaunt, and grim Despair, To Death, their lord, dire homage paid.