The poem is chiefly founded upon superstitions that prevailed among the highlands of Scotland. A venerable seer, named Altagrand, is visited by the knight Rinaldo, who informs him that the monarch of a distant island had an only daughter, Crystalina, with whom he had fallen in love; that the princess refused to marry him unless he first distinguished himself in battle; that he "plucked laurel wreaths in danger's bloody path," and returned to claim his promised reward, but was informed of the mysterious disappearance of the maid of whose fate no indications could be discovered, and that he for years had searched for her in vain through every quarter of the world He implores the aid of the seer, who ascertains from familiar spirits, summoned by his spells, that Crystalina has been stolen by Oberon, and, arming Rinaldo with a cross and consecrated weapons, conducts him to a mystic circle, within which, upon the performance of a described ceremony, the earth opens and discloses the way to Fairy Land. In the second, third and fourth cantos are related the knight's adventures in that golden subterranean realm; the various stratagems and enchantments by which its sovereign endeavored to seduce or terrify him; his annihilation of all obstacles by exhibiting the cross; the discovery of Crystalina, transformed into a bird, in Oberon's palace; the means by which she was restored to her natural form of beauty; and the triumphant return of the lovers to the upper air. In the fifth and sixth cantos, it is revealed that Altagrand is the father of Rinaldo, and the early friend of the father of Crystalina, with whom he had fought in the holy wars against the infidel. The king,
——"inspired with joy and wine
From his loose locks shook off the snows of time,"
and celebrated the restoration of his child and his friend, and the resignation of his crown to Rinaldo, in a blissful song:
"Ye rolling streams make liquid melody,
And dance into the sea.
Let not rude Boreas, on this halcyon day,
Forth in his stormy chariot be whirled;
Let not a cloud its raven wings display,
Nor shoot the oak-rending lightnings at the world
Let Jove, auspicious, from his red right hand,
Lay down his thunder brand—
A child I lost, but two this day have found,
Let the earth shout, and let the skies resound.
"Let Atropos forego her dismal trade,
And cast her fatal, horrid shears away,
While Lachesis spins out a firmer thread;
Let hostile armies hold a truce to-day,
And grim-faced war wash white his gory hand,
And smile around the land—
A child I lost, but two this day have found,
Let the earth shout, and let the skies resound.
"Let all the stars of influence benign,
This sacred night in heavenly synod meet,
Let Mars and Venus be in happy trine.
And on the wide world look with aspect sweet;
And let the mystic music of the spheres
Be audible to mortal ears—
A child I lost, but two this day have found,
Then shout, oh earth, and thou, oh sea, resound."
In 1816, Mr. John Neal was editing The Portico, a monthly magazine at Baltimore. and he reviewed this poem in a long and characteristic article. After remarking that it was the most splendid production" that ever came before him, he says: "We can produce passages from 'Crystalina' which have not been surpassed in our language. Spenser himself, who seemed to have condensed all the radiance of fairy-land upon his starry page, never dreamed of more exquisitely fanciful scenery than that which our bard has sometimes painted. Had this poet written before Shakspeare and Spenser, he would have been acknowledged 'the child of fancy.' . . . . Had he dared to think for himself—to blot out some passages, which his judgment, we are sure could not have approved—the remainder would have done credit to any poet, living or dead."
