IN the Orkney-Islands, went with a fleet of ships and a confiderable body of troops into Ireland, to the affiftance of Sitryg with the filken beard, who was then making war on his father-in-law Brian, King of Dublin: the Earl and all his forces were cut to pieces, and Sictryg was in danger of a total defeat; but the enemy had a greater lofs by the death of Brian, their King, who fell in the action. On On Christmas-day, (the day of the battle) a Native of Caithnefs in Scotland faw at a diftance a number of perfons on horseback riding full fpeed towards a hill, and feeming to enter into it. Curiofity led him to follow them, till looking through an opening in the rocks, he faw twelve gigantic figures resembling women: they were all employed about a loom; and as they wove they fung the following dreadful Song; which when they had finished, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped Six to the North and as many to the South. THE Now (Hafte, the loom of Hell prepare,) * Iron-fleet of arrowy show'r Hurtles in the darken'd air. Glitt'ring Note The Valkyriur were female Divinities, Servants of Odin (or Woden) in the Gothic mythology. Their names fignifies Chufers of the flain. They were mounted on swift horses, with drawn fwords in their hands; and in the throng of battle selected fuch as were destined to slaughter, and conducted them to Valkalla, the hall of Odin, or paradife of the Brave; where they attended the banquet, and ferved the departed Heroes with horns of mead and ale. *How quick they wheel'd; and flying, behind them fhot Sharp fleet of arrowy fhower Milton's Parad. Regain'd. + The noife of battle hurtled in the air. Shakefp. Jul. Cafar, Glitt'ring lances are the loom, Where the dusky warp we ftrain, Weaving many a Soldier's doom, Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane. See the grifly texture grow, ('Tis of human entrails made,) And the weights, that play below, Each a gafping Warriour's head. Shafts for fhuttles, dipt in gore, Shoot the trembling cords along. Sword, that once a Monarch bore, Keeps the tiffue close and ftrong. Mifta black, terrific Maid, Sangrida, and Hilda fee, Join the wayward work to aid: Tis the woof of victory. Ere |