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Far off they kept ; but soon, more daring grown, 

 More near they crept, oft sharpening on some stone 

 Their long crookt claws ; and still, as on they came, 

 They screeched and chattered ; and their eyes of flame, 

 Twinkling and goggling, told, what pleasure grim 

 'Twould give to rack and rend her limb from limb : 

 — "Heaven take my soul!" she cried, — when, hark! a 

 moan, 



So full, so sad, so strange — not shriek — not groan — 

 Something scarce earthly — breathed above her head — 

 'Twas heard, and instant every imp was fled. 



What was that sound ? What pitying saint from high 

 Had stooped to save her? Now to heaven her eye 

 Grateful she raised. Almighty powers ! — a form, 

 Gigantic as the palm, black as the storm, 

 All shagged with hair, wild, strange in shape and show, 

 Towered on the loftiest cliff, and gazed below. 

 On her he gazed, and gazed so fixed, so hard, 

 Like knights of bronze some hero's tomb who guard. 

 Bright wreaths of scarlet plumes his temples crowned, 

 And round his ankles, arms, and wrists were wound 

 Unnumbered glassy strings of crystals bright, 

 Corals, and shells, and berries red and white. 

 On her he gazed, and floods of sable fires 

 Rolled his huge eyes, and spoke his fierce desires, 

 As on his club, a torn-up lime, he leaned. — 

 " Help, Heaven ! " thought Irza, " 'tis the master-fiend !" 



Not long he paused : he now with one quick bound 

 Sprang from the cliff, and lighted on the ground. 

 Back fled the maid in terror ; but her fear 

 Was needless. Humbly, slowly crept he near, 

 Then kissed the earth, his club before her laid, 

 And of his neck her footstool would have made : 

 But from his touch she shrank. He raised his head, 

 And saw her limbs convulsed, her face all dread, 



