That fire is scorching! Oh! I came,
From the caverned depth of Hell,
My fleeting false Rodolph to claim, _175
Mighty one! I know thee well.—
STRANGER:
Ghasta! seize yon wandering sprite,
Drag her to the depth beneath,
Take her swift, before ’tis light,
Take her to the cells of death! _180
Thou that heardst the trackless dead,
In the mouldering tomb must lie,
Mortal! look upon my head,
Mortal! Mortal! thou must die.
Of glowing flame a cross was there, _185
Which threw a light around his form,
Whilst his lank and raven hair,
Floated wild upon the storm.—
The warrior upwards turned his eyes,
Gazed upon the cross of fire, _190
There sat horror and surprise,
There sat God’s eternal ire.—
A shivering through the Warrior flew,
Colder than the nightly blast,
Colder than the evening dew, _195
When the hour of twilight’s past.—
Thunder shakes th’ expansive sky,
Shakes the bosom of the heath,
‘Mortal! Mortal! thou must die’—
The warrior sank convulsed in death. _200
JANUARY, 1810.
NOTES: _114 its]it 1810. _115 What]query Which?