As I cross'd the desert wild,
Not a star amid the gloom,
Loud and harsh the tempest howl'd,
Driving vapours o'er the moon.

What care I for tempest loud?
What care I for desert lone?
What care I for church-yard blank,
Or spectre flitting round its tomb?

For white-rob'd phantom, elf, or gnome
What care I, both brave and free?
Then howl, rude tempest, till thou burst,
All thy howling moves not me.

So sang I careless, 'Wo to me!'
When, lo, a distant light appear'd;
Methought the village near must be,
And joy soon my bosom chear'd.

'Stop!' a voice shriek'd most shrill;
Close to my ear the sound did seem,
While o'er my cheek a freezing breath
Rush'd cold as tho' it death had been.

'What now,' I cried, 'unmanner'd lout?
Shew thyself, and tell thy mind.'
'Mind!' the voice shriek'd amain,
And now it sounded from behind.

Close to my side a light I see,
In cloven hoof, of grinning spite;
My soul grew sick, and back I drew,
Possess'd with wonder and affright.

Large his head, as cauldron round,
Slight his waist, as sea-weed thin,
With face behind and face before,
And reaching to his feet each chin.

Cover'd o'er with hair so white,
Drest in robe of dusky blue;
Where eyes should be two imps look'd out,
Glaring hideous to the view.

On each shoulder sat a bird,
Its plumage was of fiery red,
Transparent, bright, you through them saw,
And with their beaks they peck'd his head.

Teeth he had, both long and green,
Seeming slim'd with sea-weed o'er,
And, crawling slow his legs between,
A mastiff huge, with tail before.

Feet nor hands this elfin had,
But hoofs instead so black had he;
His putrid breath made blisters rise,
Tho' cold as any ice might be.

Loudly laugh'd the elfin sprite,
Closely clinging round my knee,
And in his hoof a rattle turn'd,
Which, in good truth, near deafen'd me.
Sinking to the earth was I,
When, lo! a vision, tall and thin,
Pluck'd my arm, and taunting cried,
'Good sir, how brave do you begin!'

Stiff as marble did she bend,
Like a steeple tall, I vow;
Where her head lodg'd—that, in faith,
Was more than ever I could know.

Thin her form as fairy wand,
White as snow of dazz'ling hue,
Her fingers swept the dusky ground,
She zigzag danc'd before my view.

Holding up her misty train,
An hideous fury crept behind,
With horse's head, and fish's tail,
And body of a feather'd kind.

Near her came a small black man,
With fiery sparks all studded o'er;
Now he swam on air, and yell'd,
And coolly then trudg'd on before.

Long and crooked was his nose,
Curling underneath his chin,
Red his eyes as harvest suns,
With a copper horn between.

Little imps with fiery eyes,
Serpents which, if cut in twain,
For a moment vanish'd back,
Then, multiplied, return'd again.

Animals with human face,
Cats with plumage of a bird,
Sprites that hideous did grimace,
But scorn'd to say a single word.

Goblins dancing in the air
With curious gambols you might see,
Arms and legs that mov'd alone,
And things as strange as well might be.

Horror stiffen'd ev'ry nerve;
'Save me, save me!' loud I cry:
Swift my hair is twisted round,
Sudden I am borne on high.

'Learn to sport with elfin king,'
A voice so shrill assail'd my ear:
I seem'd to wake—but, oh! dismay!
On precipice I lay most near.

Slowly, cautiously, I roll
From the dashing torrent's roar,
Which, foaming in the rocky cave,
Had near embrac'd me evermore.

Oh! woe was me! full twenty mile
Astray the elfins had me ta'en.
I wander'd home, and vow'd the while
I ne'er with elfs would sport again.