But a boil that arose from the deep below, A mounting gurgling column of snow; It sunk away with a murmuring moan, The sea is calm, and the sinners are gone. END OF NIGHT THE THIRD. CONCLUSION. FRIEND of the bard! peace to thy heart, Long hast thou acted generous part, Long hast thou courteously in pain Attended to a feeble strain, While oft abashed has sunk thine eye,Thy task is done, the Wake is bye. I saw thy fear, I knew it just; No sour disdain, nor manner cold, "Tis said that thirty bards appeared, And that my guideless rustic skill The prize harp still hung on the wall ; The bards were warned to leave the hall, Till courtiers gave the judgment true, To whom the splendid prize was due. |