  What wildly-beauteous form, High on the summit of yon bicrown'd hill, Lovely in horror, takes her dauntless stand? Tho' speds the thunder there its deep'ning way, Tho' round her head the lightnings play, Undaunted she abides the storm; She waves her magic wand, The clouds retire, the storm is still; Bright beams the sun unwonted light around, And many a rising flower bedecks the enchanted ground. Romance! I know thee now, I know the terrors of thy brow; I know thine aweful mien, thy beaming eye; And lo! whilst mists arise around Yon car that cleaves the pregnant ground! Two fiery dragons whirl her through the sky; Her milder sister loves to rove Amid Parnassus' laurell'd grove, To mark the gurgling streamlet glide; Meantime, thro' wilder scenes and sterner skies, From clime to clime the ardent genius flies. She speeds to yonder shore, Where ruthless tempests roar, Where sturdy winter holds his northern reign, Nor vernal suns relax the ice-pil'd plain: Dim shadows circle round her secret seat, Where wandering, who approach shall hear The wild wolf rend the air; Thro' the cloudy-mantled sky Shall see the imps of darkness fly, And hear the sad scream from the grim retreat; Around her throne Ten thousand dangers lurk, most fearful, most unknown. Yet lovelier oft in milder sway, She wends abroad her magic way; The holy prelate owns her power; In soft'ning tale relates The snowy Ethiop's matchless charms, The outlaw's den, the clang of arms, The storms of persecution lower, Austere devotion gives the stern command, "Commit yon impious legend to the fires;"— Calm in his conscious worth, the sage retires, And saves the invalu'd work, and quits the thankless land; High tow'rs his name the sacred list above, And ev'n the priest Around the tower, whose wall infolds Young Thora's blooming charms, Romance's serpent winds his glittering folds; The warrior clasps his shaggy arms, The monster falls, the damsel is the spoil, Matchless reward of Regner's Around the patriot board, The knights The martial sieges hov'ring o'er, Still prompt for innocence to fight, Or quell the pride of proud oppression's might, They rush intrepid o'er the land; She gives them to the minstrel lore, Hands down her Launcelot's peerless name, Repays her Tristram's woes with fame; Borne on the breath of song, To future times descends the memory of the throng. Foremost mid the peers of France, Orlando hurls the death-fraught lance; Where Durlindana aims the blow, To darkness sinks the faithless foe; The horn with magic sound Spreads deep dismay around; Unborn to bleed, the chieftain goes, And scatters wide his Paynim foes; The genius hovers o'er the purple plain Where Olivero tramples on the slain; Bayardo speeds his furious course, High towers Rogero in his matchless force. Romance the heighten'd tale has caught, Forth from the sad monastic cell, Where fiction with devotion loves to dwell, Deep roll the papal And everlasting wrath to rebel reason sound. Hark! Superstition sounds to war's alarms, War stalks o'er Palestine with scorching breath, And triumphs in the feast of death; All Europe flies to arms: Enthusiast courage spreads her piercing sound, Devotion caught the cry, and woke the echo around. Romance New scenes await her wondering eyes; Awhile she firms her Godfrey's throne, And makes Arabia's magic lore her own. And hark! resound, in mingled sound, The clang of arms, the shriek of death; Each streaming gash bedews the ground, And deep and hollow groans load the last struggling breath: Darts, shields, and swords, commix'd appear; Deep is the cry, when thousands die, When Coeur de Lion's arm co BION. FOOTNOTES: Vignette
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