XXIV.

“The vision made our monarch start, But soon he manned his noble heart, And in the first career they ran, The Elfin Knight fell, horse and man; Yet did a splinter of his lance Through Alexander’s visor glance, And razed the skin—a puny wound. The King, light leaping to the ground, With naked blade his phantom foe Compelled the future war to show. Of Largs he saw the glorious plain, Where still gigantic bones remain, Memorial of the Danish war; Himself he saw, amid the field, On high his brandished war-axe wield, And strike proud Haco from his car, While all around the shadowy kings Denmark’s grim ravens cowered their wings. ’Tis said, that, in that awful night, Remoter visions met his sight, Foreshowing future conquests far, When our son’s sons wage northern war; A royal city, tower and spire, Reddened the midnight sky with fire, And shouting crews her navy bore, Triumphant to the victor shore. Such signs may learned clerks explain— They pass the wit of simple swain.