I, the Summer breeze of twilight, On her cheek there is a bloom, O'er the rose or lily dying— Wan consumption bids her eye Glow with hectic brilliancy; When the cowslip blooms again, When the spring walks o'er the plain, Winds shall sigh and daisies wave Lightly o'er a young girl's grave. (Spirit of the Wave rises from the Pool and sings—) A bark to the Emerald isle was bound, The bonny blue wave danced lightly round, I called to the thunder, I called to the wind, I called to the billows before and behind, The morn arose, the heaven was blue; But where was the bark with her gallant crew? I beckoned the shark, he was gorged with food, The son in his shallop shall scour the main, Return to the friends who await them in vain. (The Spirit of the Mountain descends on a cataract, from the summit of Llynn-y-Van, and sings—) "Twas night, the spring-moon shone adown the green hill, The Serfs in their cottage lay sleeping and still, I summoned a rain-cloud that swept o'er the heath, He heard me, and chorussed his wild mountain song, While the rain-cloud and flood dashed in thunder below, Like an army to rush on its slumbering foe The morrow sprung up, as a bride from her bed, Caught a glance from the pitying sun-set, and blushed- (The Spirit of the Grave rises from the earth, and sings—) In the lazar vaults I build my cell, Where death and his gristly phantoms dwell; I bid the Vampire gorge the blood Of the charnelled dead, for his nightly food; I have a spirit that came to me, When the last spring-moon looked over the lea; But the clod of the valley is over her piled; THE INCANTATION. Spectre-spectre-hither come On your night-wind from the tomb : By the dæmons that surround you, By your corse that yields him food, Hither come-for one is here, One to whom you once were dear. (The ghost of a female descends on a night-wind.) SECOND STRANGER. Are the rites ended FIRST STRANGER. No! a spirit hovers O'er the weird pool-her garb is feminine The death-worm coils around each limb; her mouth Breathes forth the chill fog of the sepulchre, D D With the rank vigour of a fresh decay; (Shrieks and falls senseless on the earth. The spirits vanish beneath the Pool.) |