.

I.

Many weary days I suffer'd,
Sick of heart and poor of purse;
Riches are the greatest blessing--
Poverty the deepest curse!
Till at last to dig a treasure
Forth I went into the wood--
"Fiend! my soul is thine for ever!"
And I sign'd the scroll with blood.

II.

Then I drew the magic circles,
Kindled the mysterious fire,
Placed the herbs and bones in order,
Spoke the incantation dire.
And I sought the buried metal
With a spell of mickle might--
Sought it as my master taught me;
Black and stormy was the night.

III.

And I saw a light appearing
In the distance, like a star;
When the midnight hour was tolling,
Came it waxing from afar:
Came it flashing, swift and sudden;
As if fiery wine it were,
Flowing from an open chalice,
Which a beauteous boy did bear.

IV.

And he wore a lustrous chaplet,
And his eyes were full of thought,
As he stepp'd into the circle
With the radiance that he brought.
And he bade me taste the goblet;
And I thought--"It cannot be,
That this boy should be the bearer
Of the Demon's gifts to me!"

V.

"Taste the draught of pure existence
Sparkling in this golden urn,
And no more with baneful magic
Shalt thou hitherward return.
Do not dig for treasures longer;
Let thy future spellwords be
Days of labour, nights of resting;
So shall peace return to thee!"

* * * * *

Pass we away now from the Hartz to Heidelberg, in the company of our
glorious poet. We all know the magnificent ruins of the Neckar, the
feudal turrets which look down upon one of the sweetest spots that ever
filled the soul of a weary man with yearning for a long repose. Many a
year has gone by since the helmet of the warder was seen glancing on
these lofty battlements, since the tramp of the steed was heard in the
court-yard, and the banner floated proudly from the topmost turret; but
fancy has a power to call them back, and the shattered stone is restored
in an instant by the touch of that sublimest architect:--

THE CASTLE ON THE MOUNTAIN.

There stands an ancient castle
On yonder mountain height,
Where, fenced with door and portal,
Once tarried steed and knight.

But gone are door and portal,
And all is hush'd and