"
Then aloud he spake, and the dreary hall
Re-echoed hoarsely his hollow call:
"Ho! Boreas, Auster, Eurus, ho!
And you, too, dainty-winged Zephyrus, go
And have a dance on the hills to-day,
And I'll sit here and enjoy your play."
Then Boreas started with such a roar
That the King, his father, was troubled sore,
And peevishly muttered within himself--
"He'll burst his throat, the unmannerly elf!"
But Auster, angry at seeing his brother
Astart of him, broke away with another
As fearful a yell from the opposite side
Of the wind-cave, gloomy, and long, and wide.
One from the South, and one from the North,
The rough-tempered brothers went shrieking forth;
And faster, and faster, and faster still,
They swept o'er valley, and forest, and hill.
The clouds affrighted before them flew,
From white swift changing to black or blue;
But, failing to'scape the assailants' ire,
Fell afoul of each other in conflict dire.
Now hot, now cold--what a strife was there!
Till the crashing hailstones smote the air,
And men and women in country and town
Were hastily closing their windows down,
And shutting doors with a crash and a bang,
While the raindrops beat, and the hailstones rang,
And the lightnings glared from the fiery eyes
Of the furious combatants up in the skies,
And burst in thunder-claps far and near,
Making the timorous shake with fear.
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