with his proper paws,
Than that she should ever sink
Even into princely arms!
Yet in this same moment he
Is as softly moved--"no rose
Would he pluck before the storm
Reft it of its petals fair."
Atta Troll in saddest mood
Lies within his rocky cave.
Like Death's warning o'er him creeps
Hunger for infinity.
"Children!" then he sobs, the tears
Burst from out his mournful eyes,--
"Children! soon my earthly days
Shall be ended--we must part.
"Unto me this very noon
Came a dream of import vast,
And my soul drank in the sweet
Sense of early death-to-be.
"Superstitious am I not,
Nor fantastic--ah, and yet
More things lie 'twixt Earth and Heaven
Than philosophy may dream.
"Pondering on the world and fate,
Yawning I had dropped asleep,
And I dreamed that I was lying
Stretched beneath a mighty tree.
"From the branches of this tree
White celestial honey dripped
Straight into my open jaws,
Filling me with wondrous bliss.
"Peering happily aloft
Soon I spied within the leaves
Seven pretty little bears
Gliding up and down the boughs.
"Delicate and dainty things,
All with pelts of rosy hue,
And their heavenly voices rang
Like a melody of flutes!
"As they sang an icy chill
Seized my flesh, although my soul
Like a flame went soaring straight
Gleaming into highest Heaven."
Thus with soft and quivering grunts,
Spake our Atta Troll, then grew
Silent in his wistful grief.
Suddenly his ears he raised,
And in strangest wise they twitched!
Then from up his couch he sprang
Trembling, bellowing with joy:
"Children! do you hear that voice!
"Are not those the dulcet tones
Of your mother? Do I not
My dear Mumma's grumbles know?--
Mumma! Mumma! precious mate!"
Like a madman with these words
From the cave rushed Atta Troll
Swift to his destruction--oh!
To his ruin straight he plunged.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CANTO XXIV
In the Vale of Roncesvalles,
On that very spot where erst
Charlemagne's great nephew fell,
Gasping forth his warrior soul,
Fell and perished Atta Troll,
Fell through ambush, even as he
Whom that Judas of the Knights,
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