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As their summits to heaven Shoot soaringly forth;

I have quitted my birth-place, Thy bidding to bide—

Thy spell hath subdued me, Thy will be my guide!

FIETH SPIRIT. I am the Rider of ihe wind,

The Stirrer of the storm;

The hurricane I left behind Is yet with lightning warm;

To speed to thee, o'er shore and sea I swept upon the blast:

The fleet I met sailed well, and yet

„Twill sink ere night be past.

SIXTH SPIRIT.

* My dwelling is the shadow of the night,

Why doth thy magic torture me with light?