SONG OF THE TEMPEST-FIEND.
I marked her!—the pennants, how gaily they streamed!—
How well was she armed for resistance!
The waves that sustained her, how brightly they beamed
In the sun’s setting rays, and the sailors all seemed
To forget the storm-spirit’s existence.
But I marked her!—and now from the clouds I descend!
My spells to the billows I mutter!
I clap my black pinions! my wand I extend,
In darkness the sky and the ocean to blend,