Page:Poems Osgood.djvu/29

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the lutin-steed.
19

"He goes not to the fountain—
I hear the sea-waves roar—
And hark! the tempest raves above—
And see—the rain doth pour!

"Oh! turn him!—turn him homeward!
How wild—how fast he flies!
It is—it is—a Lutin-steed!
And he who rides him—dies!"

They strove in vain to turn him,
They strove to check his speed;—
The lightning glares!—the thunder howls
Around the demon-steed!—

The ocean heaves before him—
He neighs with fiendish joy—
His flaming hoofs have touch'd the beach—
Heaven save that hapless boy!

The cold waves kiss their white lips,
And deeper yet they go;
The cold waves close above their heads,—
And drown that shriek of wo!—