'And I love you to madness my Agnes A mantle encircled his shadowy form, I love, As light as a gossamer borne on the My constant affection this night will I prove, storm, Celestial terror sat throned in his gaze, This night will I go to the sepulchre's Like the midnight pestiferous meteor's jaw, Alone will I glut its all conquering maw' 20 blaze. OR, THE AVENGING DEMON!!! The idea of the following tale was taken from a few unconnected German Stanzas.-The principal Character is evidently the Wandering Jew, and although not mentioned by name, the burning Cross on his forehead undoubtedly alludes to that superstition, so prevalent in the part of Germany called the Black Forest, where this scene is supposed to lie. HARK! the owlet flaps her wing, In the pathless dell beneath, Hark! night ravens loudly sing, Tidings of despair and death.Horror covers all the sky, Clouds of darkness blot the moon, Prepare! for mortal thou must die, Tells the hour of midnight come, 5 10 15 A warrior hastening speeds his way, He starts, looks round him, starts again, And sighs for the approach of day. 20 See! his frantic steed he reins, See! he lifts his hands on high, Implores a respite to his pains, From the powers of the sky. I feel impelled my tale to tell- Fleeting as the cloud on bog, That hangs or on the mountain stream. Horror seized my shuddering brain, He seeks an Inn, for faint from toil, 25 In vain I tried to speak,-In vain Fatigue had bent his lofty form, storm. My limbs essayed the spot to fly— 60 At last the thin and shadowy form, 65 came,- Its light robe floated on the storm, Its head was bound with lambent flame. In chilling voice drear as the breeze Which sweeps along th' autumnal ground, 70 Which wanders through the leafless When demons ride the clouds that trees, Or the mandrake's groan which floats around. "Thou art mine and I am thine, "Till the sinking of the world, I am thine and thou art mine, 'Till in ruin death is hurled 75 'Strong the power and dire the fate, Which drags me from the depths of Hell, Breaks the tomb's eternal gate, lower, -The phantom sat upon my bed. In hollow voice, low as the sound What floats along the burying ground, Her chilling finger on my head, Where fiendish shapes and dead men Cold as the finger of the dead, yell, 80 'For thou art mine, and I am thine, I am thine, and thou art mine- Still I gazed, and still the form Or damps which round a tombstone roll I 20 95 131 Follow, follow, follow me. Yet the tempest's duskiest wing, ΙΟΙ 135 That crossed the heathy path they trod, The Stranger's look was wild and drear, He raised a wand above his head, 140 The dead with silent footsteps came. 115 What] query Which? A burning brilliance on his head, 145 'Ghasta! Ghasta! come along, Bring thy fiendish crowd with thee, Quickly raise th' avenging Song, Ghasta! Ghasta! come to me.' Horrid shapes in mantles gray, Flit athwart the stormy night, 151 Of glowing flame a cross was there, 185 Which threw a light around his form, Whilst his lank and raven hair, 190 The warrior upwards turned his eyes, A shivering through the Warrior flew, 155 Colder than the evening dew, 160 When the hour of twilight's past.— Thunder shakes th' expansive sky, 'Twas then that I started, the wild storm was howling, Nought was seen, save the lightning that danced on the sky, Above me the crash of the thunder was rolling, And low, chilling murmurs the blast wafted by. 180 My heart sank within me, unheeded the jar Ghasta! seize yon wandering sprite, Mortal! Mortal! thou must die. 10 Of the battling clouds on the mountain-tops broke, Unheeded the thunder-peal crashed in mine ear, This heart hard as iron was stranger to Her right hand a blood reeking dagger fear, But conscience in low noiseless whispering spoke. was bearing, She swiftly advanced to my lone- "Twas then that her form on the whirl- I wildly then called on the tempest to wind uprearing, 15 The dark ghost of the murdered Victoria strode, bear me! POEMS FROM ST. IRVYNE, OR, THE ROSICRUCIAN [St. Irvyne; or The Rosicrucian, appeared early in 1811 (see Bibliographical List). Rossetti (1870) relying on a passage in Medwin's Life of Shelley (i. p. 74), assigns i, iv, v, and vi to 1808, and ii and iv to 1809. The titles of i, iii, iv, and v are Rossetti's; those of ii and vi are Dowden's.] 'Twas then that I started!-the wild Above me, the crash of the thunder was IV 'Twas then that her form on the whirl wind upholding, 15 The ghost of the murdered Victoria strode; In her right hand, a shadowy shroud she was holding, She swiftly advanced to my lonesome abode. And low, chilling murmurs, the blast When o'er the dark aether the tempest II. On the Dark, &c.: without title, 1811; The Father's Spectre, Rossetti, 1870. |