eds all night did wake,
Prayed for the day, and feared to see it break.

When o'er the icy fjords cold rise white peaks,
And fierce wild storms blot out the frozen creeks,
The Finnish mother to her breast more near
Draws her dear babe--clasps it in her wild fear
Still closer to her heart. And o'er and o'er
Through her weird song fall echoes from that lore
That lived when Time was young, e'er yet the rime
Of years lay on his brow. In that far prime
Nature and man, couched 'neath God's earliest sky,
Heard clear-voiced spheres chant Earth's first lullaby.
Now, in the blast loud sings the Finn, and long,
Nor knows that faint through her wild cradle-song
Yet sweetly thrills the vanished Elf-babes' cry,
Nor dreams, as low she croons her lullaby,
Still breathes through that sweet, lingering refrain
Lilith the childless--and to life again,
To love, she wakes.
The soft strain clearer rings
As through the gathering storm that mother sings:

Pile the strong fagot,
Pale Lilith comes!
Wild through the murky air goblin voices shout.
Hark! Hearest thou not their lusty rout?
Lilith comes!
Listen, my babe!

See how the dusk pines
Tremble and crouch;
Over wide wastes borne, white are the snow-wreaths blown,
And loud the drear icy fjords shudder and moan;
Lilith comes!
Listen, my babe!

Ah! Hear the wild din,
Fierce o'er the linn,
The sea-gull, affrighted, soars seaward away,
And dark on the shores falls the wind-driven spray;
Lilith comes!
Listen, my babe!

The shuddering ice
Shivers. It cracks!
Like a wild beast in pain, it cries to the wrack
Of the storm-cloud overhead. The sea answers back--
Dread Lilith comes!
Listen, my babe!

Near draws the wraith fair,
Dull gleams her hair.
Ah, strong one, so cruel--fierce breath of the North--
The torches of heaven are lighting thee forth!
Fell Lilith comes!
Listen, my babe!

Cold spirit of Snow,
Ah, I fear thee!
The sports of my hunter, the white fox, the bear,
The spoils of our rivers are thine. Ah, then spare,