Of spirits restless, borne from place to place;
Rivers of blood from conquer’d armies ran;
The flying steed was by, the marble man;
Then danced the fairies round their pygmy queen,
And their feet twinkled on the dewy green,
All in the moon-beams’ glory. As they fled,
The mountain loadstone rear’d its fatal head, 680
And drew the iron-bolted ships on shore, }
Where he distinctly heard the billows roar, }
Mix’d with a living voice of—“Youngster, sleep no more, }