 | Gathered in the gloaming |  |
36
A Witch-Agony.
Ha! weird the night—
Not a star in sight,
And over the wastes of the sky,
Rapid and black,
Like a ravening pack
Of wolves, the clouds race by.
For the winds are out,
With a whoop and a shout,
And the waters whirl on their way,
Flickering and flashing,
Surging and dashing,
Roaring and rending their prey.
Ha! weird the night, and my soul is glad,
For the winds are all mad and the waters mad,
And I am as mad as they!
Not a star in sight,
And over the wastes of the sky,
Rapid and black,
Like a ravening pack
Of wolves, the clouds race by.
For the winds are out,
With a whoop and a shout,
And the waters whirl on their way,
Flickering and flashing,
Surging and dashing,
Roaring and rending their prey.
Ha! weird the night, and my soul is glad,
For the winds are all mad and the waters mad,
And I am as mad as they!
Ho! Hurricane, set the rocks a-roll,
And topple the pine-woods low!
Ho! Thunder of heaven, grumble and growl!
Ho! Avalanche, shake the snow!
And topple the pine-woods low!
Ho! Thunder of heaven, grumble and growl!
Ho! Avalanche, shake the snow!
37
I follow your path
Of wreck and of wrath,
I laugh, I revel, I fly—
I rive the air
With a shriek of despair,
When the lightning leaps from the sky!
Oh, horror and ruin,
Oh, fierce undoing,
Downfall and doom and dismay!—
Oh, weird the night, and my soul is glad,
For the Hurricane's mad, and the Avalanche mad,
And I am as mad as they!
Of wreck and of wrath,
I laugh, I revel, I fly—
I rive the air
With a shriek of despair,
When the lightning leaps from the sky!
Oh, horror and ruin,
Oh, fierce undoing,
Downfall and doom and dismay!—
Oh, weird the night, and my soul is glad,
For the Hurricane's mad, and the Avalanche mad,
And I am as mad as they!
See the world's on fire, on fire—
On fire, above and below!
My brain's in a blaze—I rave, I craze,
I scatter sparks as I go.
I'm aflame, I'm aflame!—like a levin bolt,
I blast and wither on hill and holt—
I shrivel heather and fern—
My lips are kist by a crimson mist—
I burn, I burn, I burn!
On fire, above and below!
My brain's in a blaze—I rave, I craze,
I scatter sparks as I go.
I'm aflame, I'm aflame!—like a levin bolt,
I blast and wither on hill and holt—
I shrivel heather and fern—
My lips are kist by a crimson mist—
I burn, I burn, I burn!
Like a comet I thread the gorge alone,
With a glare and a heat of hell—
Hark, how the mountains mutter and moan,
How the wind tolls loud like a knell!
How it tolls, how it tolls,
As for passing souls,—
How it tolls like a deep death-bell!
With a glare and a heat of hell—
Hark, how the mountains mutter and moan,
How the wind tolls loud like a knell!
38
As for passing souls,—
How it tolls like a deep death-bell!
My brain's in a blaze. . . Ha! the blaze grows dim—
The fire flickers low, flickers low—
An agony wrenches spirit and limb,
A death-damp drips from my brow.
Ho! Queen, Ho! Hecate, vouchsafe me aid—
I tremble, I faint, I am sore afraid—
Ho Ashtaroth, where art thou?
I am smitten and buffeted—dragged and driven—
The fire flickers low, flickers low—
An agony wrenches spirit and limb,
A death-damp drips from my brow.
Ho! Queen, Ho! Hecate, vouchsafe me aid—
I tremble, I faint, I am sore afraid—
Ho Ashtaroth, where art thou?
Accursed of earth and accursed of heaven—
Hissed, hooted, harried—ah God! unshriven,
I drop in a bloody dew,—
And Hell-gate, horrible, opens wide—
Opens, with horrible shapes inside—
Opens, and . . . . draws me through.
| Gathered in the gloaming | |