Hath chased our darkness like a gem.
Great Athelstan, his country's pride,
Whose virtue never turns aside;
Sent by his father to the schools,
Patient, he bore their rigid rules.
And drinking deep of science mild.
Passed his first years unlike a child.
Next clothed in youth's bewitching charms.
Studied the harsher lore of arms,
Which soon confessed his knowledge keen.
As after in the sovereign seen.
Soon as his father, good and great,
Yielded, though ever famed, to fate.
The youth was called the realm to guide,
And, like his parent, well preside.
The nobles meet, the crown present.
On rebels, prelates curses vent;
The people light the festive fires,
And show by turns their kind desires.
Their deeds their loyalty declare,
Though hopes and fears their bosoms share.
With festive treat the court abounds;
Foams the brisk wine, the hall resounds:
The pages run, the servants haste,
And food and verse regale the taste.
The minstrels sing, the guests commend,
Whilst all in praise to Christ contend.
The king with pleasure all things sees.
And all his kind attentions please.
The solemnity of the consecration being finished, Athelstan, that he might not deceive the expectation of his subjects, and fall below their opinion, subdued the whole of England, except Northumbria, by the single terror of his name. One Sihtric, a relation of that Gothrun who is mentioned in the history of Alfred, presided over this people, a barbarian both by race and disposition, who, though he ridiculed the power of preceding kings, humbly solicited affinity with Athelstan, sending messengers expressly for the purpose; and himself shortly following confirmed the proposals of the ambassadors. In consequence, honoured by a union with his sister, and by various presents, he laid the basis of a perpetual treaty. But, as I have before observed, dying at the end of a year, he afforded Athelstan an opportunity for uniting Northumbria, which belonged to him both by ancient right and recent affinity, to his sovereignty. Anlaf, the son of Sihtric, then
