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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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