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Still they gazed on the tombstone where Conrad reclined,
Yet they shrank at the cold chilling blast of the wind,
When a strange silver brilliance pervaded the scene,
And a figure advanced–tall in form–fierce in mien.

A mantle encircled his shadowy form,
As light as a gossamer borne on the storm,
Celestial terror sat throned in his gaze,
Like the midnight pestiferous meteor’s blaze.–

SPIRIT:
Thy father, Adolphus! was false, false as hell,
And Conrad has cause to remember it well,
He ruined my Mother, despised me his son,
I quitted the world ere my vengeance was done.

I was nearly expiring–’twas close of the day,–
A demon advanced to the bed where I lay, 0
He gave me the power from whence I was hurled,
To return to revenge, to return to the world,–

Now Adolphus I’ll seize thy best loved in my arms,
I’ll drag her to Hades all blooming in charms,
On the black whirlwind’s thundering pinion I’ll ride,
And fierce yelling fiends shall exult o’er thy bride–

He spoke, and extending his ghastly arms wide,
Majestic advanced with a swift noiseless stride,
He clasped the fair Agnes–he raised her on high,
And cleaving the roof sped his way to the sky–

All was now silent,–and over the tomb,
Thicker, deeper, was swiftly extended a gloom,
Adolphus in horror sank down on the stone,
And his fleeting soul fled with a harrowing groan.

DECEMBER, 1809.

16. Ghasta Or, the Avenging Demon!!!

The idea of the following tale was taken from a few unconnected German Stanzas.–The principal Character is evidently the Wandering Jew, and although not mentioned by name, the burning Cross on his forehead undoubtedly alludes to that superstition, so prevalent in the part of Germany called the Black Forest, where this scene is supposed to lie.

Hark! the owlet flaps her wing,
In the pathless dell beneath,
Hark! night ravens loudly sing,
Tidings of despair and death.–

Horror covers all the sky,
Clouds of darkness blot the moon,
Prepare! for mortal thou must die,
Prepare to yield thy soul up soon–

Fierce the tempest raves around,
Fierce the volleyed lightnings fly,
Crashing thunder shakes the ground,
Fire and tumult fill the sky.–

Hark! the tolling village bell,
Tells the hour of midnight come,
Now can blast the powers of Hell,
Fiend-like goblins now can roam–

See! his crest all stained with rain,
A warrior hastening speeds his way,
He starts, looks round him, starts again,
And sighs for the approach of day.

See! his frantic steed he reins,
See! he lifts his hands on high,
Implores a respite to his pains,
From the powers of the sky.–

He seeks an Inn, for faint from toil,
Fatigue had bent his lofty form,
To rest his wearied limbs awhile,
Fatigued with wandering and the storm.

…
…

Slow the door is opened wide–
With trackless tread a stranger came,
His form Majestic, slow his stride,
He sate, nor spake,–nor told his name–

Terror blanched the warrior’s cheek,
Cold sweat from his forehead ran,
In vain his tongue essayed to speak,–
At last the stranger thus began:

‘Mortal! thou that saw’st the sprite,
Tell me what I wish to know,
Or come with me before ’tis light,
Where cypress trees and mandrakes grow.

‘Fierce the avenging Demon’s ire,
Fiercer than the wintry blast,
Fiercer than the lightning’s fire,
When the hour of twilight’s past’–

The warrior raised his sunken eye.
It met the stranger’s sullen scowl,
‘Mortal! Mortal! thou must die,’
In burning letters chilled his soul.

WARRIOR:
Stranger! whoso’er you are,
I feel impelled my tale to tell–
Horrors stranger shalt thou hear,
Horrors drear as those of Hell.