HIS CROWN AND HIS SHROUD

“O father, see yonder! see yonder!” he says;

“My boy, upon what doest thou fearfully gaze?” —

“O, ’tis the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud.”

“No, my son, it is but a dark wreath of the cloud.”

A dread shape forms in the mist: chilled white musk, rain-soaked earth, and a gleam of blackened steel.