Echo to Him Who Complains

O

LY thee from the shades of night,  Where the loud tempests yelling rise;

Where horrror wings her sullen flight  Beneath the bleak and lurid skies.

As the pale light'ning swiftly gleams  O'er the scorch'd wood, thy well-known form More radiant than an angel seems,  Contending with the ruthless storm.

I see the scowling witch,

IR  Drink the big tear that scalds thy cheek;

While thro' the dark and turbid air,  The screams of haggard

VY break.

From the cold mountain's flinty steep,  I hear the dashing waters roar;

Ah! turn thee, turn thee, cease to weep,  Thou hast no reason to deplore.

See fell

IR expiring fall,  See

VY from thy glances start;

No more shall howling blasts appall,  Or with'ring grief corrode thy heart.

See

IP from her azure eye  Drops the fond balm for ev'ry

She comes, the offspring of the sky,  "TO

ZE

HE

ES OF

HE brain."