Crazy Radio eBooks

The upper air bursts into life,
And a hundred fire-flags sheen
To and fro they are hurried about;
And to and fro, and in and out
The stars dance on between.
The coming wind doth roar more loud;
The sails do sigh, like sedge:
The rain pours down from one black cloud,
And the moon is at its edge.
Hark! hark! the thick black cloud is cleft,
And the moon is at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning falls with never a jag
A river steep and wide.
The strong wind reach'd the ship: it roar'd
And dropp'd down, like a stone!
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.' P. 27.
We do not sufficiently understand the story to analyse it. It is a Dutch
attempt at German sublimity. Genius has here been employed in producing
a poem of little merit.
With pleasure we turn to the serious pieces, the better part of the
volume. The Foster-Mother's Tale is in the best style of dramatic
narrative. The Dungeon, and the Lines upon the Yew-tree Seat, are
beautiful.


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