Vii

"Look!" The whispered awe enhances With a thrill their merry treat; As one readeth grim romances, In a sunny window-seat

"Look! It is the maid selected For the sacrifice expected: By the Gods, how proud and brave Steps she to her watery grave!"

Strike up cymbals, gongs, and tabours, Clarions, double-flutes, and drums; All that bellows, or belabours, In a surging discord comes.