And now the Conqueror essays To stand or go is at their pleasure ; Their efforts and their time they measure And, while they strain, and while they rest, Now am I fairly safe to-night Yes, let my master fume and fret, My jolly Team, he finds that ye Good proof of this the Country gained, One day, when ye were vexed and strained Entrusted to another's care, And forced unworthy stripes to bear. Here was it on this rugged spot Which now, contented with our lot, We climb that, piteously abused, Ye plunged in anger and confused: A word from me was like a charm - The ranks were taken with one mind; And your huge burthen, safe from harm, - Yes, without me, up hills so high 'Tis vain to strive for mastery. Then grieve not, jolly Team! though tough While Benjamin in earnest mood His meditations thus pursued, A storm, which had been smothered long, Was growing inwardly more strong; The thunder had begun to growl – He marked not that 'twas still as death. Hung round and overhung with gloom! Is to be seen a lurid light, Above Helm-crag* a streak half dead, A burning of portentous red; A mountain of Grasmere, the broken summit of which presents two figures, full as distinctly shaped as that of the famous Cobler, near Arracher, in Scotland. And, near that lurid light, full well With no one but the ANCIENT WOMAN: As if intent on magic spell; Dread pair, that, spite of wind and weather, Still sit upon Helm-crag together! The ASTROLOGER was not unseen By solitary Benjamin: But total darkness came anon, And he and every thing was gone. And suddenly a ruffling breeze, (That would have sounded through the trees Had aught of sylvan growth been there), Was felt throughout the region bare: The rain rushed down the road was battered, As with the force of billows shattered; And Benjamin is groping near them, Sees nothing, and can scarcely hear them. With such a charge in such a spot; Till, breaking in upon the dying strain, A rending o'er his head begins the 'fray again. Meanwhile, uncertain what to do, And oftentimes compelled to halt; The horses cautiously pursue Their way, without mishap or fault; His bones, and those of all his Power, |