She whisper'd to him then, with bloodless lip,
What had befallen her on board the ship;
But youthful Harrald listen'd undismay'd,
And merely gripp'd the handle of his blade.
"My son," she murmur'd, when her tale was told,
"Fear withers me, but thou look'st blythe and bold."
The youth uplifted then his sparkling eye,
And said, whilst gazing on the moon-lit sky,

"Once, my dear mother, at the close of day,
Among tall flowers in the grove I lay,
Soft sang the linnets from a thousand trees,
And, sweetly lull'd, I slumber'd by degrees.
Then, heaven's curtain was, methought, undrawn,
And, clad in hues that deck the brow of morn,
An angel slowly sank towards the earth,
Which seem'd to hail him with a smile of mirth.

"He rais'd his hand, and bade me fix my eye
Upon a chain which, hanging from the sky,
Embrac'd the world; and, stretching high and low,
Clink'd, as it mov'd, the notes of joy and wo:
The links that came in sight were purpled o'er
Full frequently with what seem'd human gore;
Of various metals made, it clasp'd the mould, -
Steel clung to silver, iron clung to gold.

"Then said the angel, with majestic air, -
'The chain of destiny thou seest there.