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No. XIII.

THE CLOUD-KING.

4 ADJECTIVES HAVE BUT THREE DEGREES OF COMPARISON, THE POSITIVE, COMPARATIVE, AND SUPERLATIVE."

English Grammare

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Why how now, Sir Pilgrim ? why shake you with dread?

Why brave you the winds of night, cutting and cold? Full warm was your chamber, full soft was your bed,

And scarce by the castle-bell twelve has been toll’d.

-“ Oh! hear you not, Warder, with anxious dismay,

“ How rages the tempeft, how patters the rain? “ While loud howls the whirlwind, and threatens, ere day,

“ To ftrow these old turrets in heaps on the plain!"

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Now calm thee, Sir Pilgrim ! thy fears to remove,

Know, yearly, this morning is destin’d to bring Such storms, which declare that resentment and love

Still gnaw the proud heart of the cruel Cloud-King.

One morning, as borne on the wings of the blast,

The fiend over Denmark directed his flight, A glance upon Rosenhall's turrets he cast,

And gazed on its lady with wanton delight:

Yet proud was her eye, and her cheek flush'd with rage,

Her lips with disdain and reproaches were fraught; And lo! at her feet knelt a lovely young page,

And thus in soft accents compassion besought.

-“O drive not, dear beauty, a wretch to despair,

" Whose fault is so venial, a fault if it be; “ For who could have eyes, and not see thou art fair?

“ Or who have an heart, and not give it to thee?

“ I own I adore you! I own you have been

“ Long the dream of my night, long the thought of my

day;

“ But no hope had my heart that its idolized

queen “ Would ever with passion my passion repay.

“ When insects delight in the blaze of the sun,

· They harbour no wish in his glory to share :

66 When

6 When kneels at the cross of her Saviour the nun,

“ He scorns not the praises the breathes in her prayer.

6 When the pilgrim repairs to St. Hermegild's shrine,

" And claims of her relics a kiss as his fee, “ His paifion is humble, is purç, is divine,

“And such is the passion I cherish for thee !"

“Rash youth! how presumest thou with insolent love,"

Thus answered the lady, “ her ears to profane, “ Whom the monarchs of Norway and Jutland, to move

“ Their passion to pity attempted in vain?

“ Fly, fly from my fight, to fome far diftant land!

“ That wretch must not breathe, where Romilda resides, “ Whose lips, while she slept, stole a kiss from that hand,

“No mortal is worthy to press as a bride's.

“ Nor e'er will I wed till some prince of the air,

“ His heart at the throne of my beauty shall lay, “ And the two first commands which I give him, shall

swear, “ (Though hard should the taik be enjoin?d) to obey.”—

She said.—Straight the castle of Rosenhall rocks
With an earthquake, and thunders announce the Cloud-

King.
A crown of red lightnings confined his fair locks,

And high o’er each arm wayed an huge sable wing.

His sandals were meteors ; his blue

eye

reveal'd The firmament's luftre, and light scatter'd round; While his robe, a bright tissue of rain-drops congeald,

Reflected the lightnings his temples that bound.

“ Romilda !” he thundered, “ thy charms and thy pride

“ Have drawn down a spirit; thy fears now dismiss, “ For no mortal shall call thee, proud beauty, his bride;

“ The Cloud-Monarch comes to demand thee for his.

“My eyes furnish lightnings, my wings cloud the air, “ My hand guides the thunder, iny breath wakes the

storm; And the two first commands which you give me, I swear, (Though hard should the task be enjoin'd) to per

form.”

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He said, and he seized her; then urging his flight,

Swift bore her away, while she struggled in vain; Yet long in her ears rang the shrieks of affright,

Which pour'd for her danger the page Amorayn.

At the Palace of Clouds foon Romilda arrived,
When the Fiend, with a smile which her terrors in-

creased,
Exclaim'd—“I must warn my three brothers I'm wived,

* And bid them prepare for my wedding the feast.”

Than

Than lightning then swifter thrice round' did he turn,

Thrice bitterly cursed he the parent of good, And next in a chafing-dish haften’d to burn

Three locks of his hair, and three drops of his blood:

And quickly Romilda, with anxious affright,

Heard the tramp of a steed, and beheld at the gate A youth in white arms-—'twas the false Water-Spright,

And behind him his mother, the forceress, fate.

The youth he was comely, and fair to behold,

The hag was the fouleft eye ever survey’d; Each placed on the table a goblet of gold,

While thus to Romilda the Water-King said.

-“ Hail, Queen of the Clouds! lo! we bring thee for

drink “ The blood of a damsel, both lovely and rich, “Whom I tempted, and left ’midst the billows to fink,

“ Where she died by the hands of my mother, the witch.

" But see'st thou yon chariot, which speeds from afar? “ The Erl-King with his daughter it brings, while a

throng * Of wood-fiends and fuccubi sports round the car,

“ And goads on the night-mares that whirl it along.”—

The maid, while her eyes tears of agony pour'd,

Beheld the Erl-King and his daughter draw near:

A charger

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