When the wounded cry,
And the craven die,
I will ride on the spires,
And the red volumes of the bursting fires.20
SPIRITS AND NIGHT-HAGS.
Around, around, around,
Dance we to the dismal sound
Of dying cries and mortal woe,
Whilst mocking imps shout, Ho! ho! ho!
FIRST SPIRIT.
Hear!25
Spirits that our 'hests perform
In the earthquake or the storm,
Appear, appear!
A fire is lighted—the pale smoke goes up;
Obscure, terrific features through the clouds30
Are seen, and a wild laughter heard, We come!
FIRST MINISTERING SPIRIT.
I have syllables of dread;
They can wake the dreamless dead.
SECOND SPIRIT.
I, a dark sepulchral song,
That can lead hell's phantom-throng.