I AM now,--what joy to hear it!--
Of the old magician rid;
And henceforth shall ev'ry spiritDo whate'er by me is bid;I have watch'd with rigourAll he used to do,And will now with vigourWork my wonders too.
Wander, wanderOnward lightly,So that rightlyFlow the torrent,And with teeming waters yonderIn the bath discharge its current!
And now come, thou well-worn broom,And thy wretched form bestir;Thou hast ever served as groom,So fulfil my pleasure, sir!
On two legs now stand,With a head on top;Waterpail in hand,Haste, and do not stop!
Wander, wanderOnward lightly,So that rightlyFlow the torrent,And with teeming waters yonderIn the bath discharge its current!
See! he's running to the shore,And has now attain'd the pool, And with lightning speed once moreComes here, with his bucket full!
Back he then repairs;
See how swells the tide!
How each pail he bearsStraightway is supplied!
Stop, for, lo!
All the measureOf thy treasureNow is right!--Ah, I see it! woe, oh woe!
I forget the word of might.
Ah, the word whose sound can straightMake him what he was before!
Ah, he runs with nimble gait!
Would thou wert a broom once more!
Streams renew'd for everQuickly bringeth he;River after riverRusheth on poor me!
Now no longerCan I bear him;
I will snare him,Knavish sprite!
Ah, my terror waxes stronger!
What a look! what fearful sightOh, thou villain child of hell!
Shall the house through thee be drown'd Floods I see that wildly swell,O'er the threshold gaining ground.
Wilt thou not obey,Oh, thou broom accurs'd?
Be thou still I pray,As thou wert at first!
Will enoughNever please thee?
I will seize thee,Hold thee fast,And thy nimble wood so tough,With my sharp axe split at last.
See, once more he hastens back!
Now, oh Cobold, thou shalt catch it!
I will rush upon his track;
Crashing on him falls my hatchet.
Bravely done, indeed!
See, he's cleft in twain!
Now from care I'm freed,And can breathe again.
Woe, oh woe!
Both the parts,Quick as darts,Stand on end,Servants of my dreaded foe!
Oh, ye gods protection send!
And they run! and wetter stillGrow the steps and grows the hail.
Lord and master hear me call!
Ever seems the flood to fill, Ah, he's coming! see,Great is my dismay!
Spirits raised by meVainly would I lay!
"To the sideOf the roomHasten, broom,As of old!
Spirits I have ne'er untiedSave to act as they are told."1797.
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