iled
from her father's house by a false Sir John; the other, intitled
"Clerk Colvil," treats of a young man who fell into the snares of a
false mermaid; the latter, indeed, bears a still stranger resemblance
to the Danish tradition of "The Erl-King's Daughter." The fragment of
"The Water King" may be found in "Herder's Volkslieder."

Many inquiries have been made respecting the elementary monarchs
mentioned a few pages back; I must inform my readers that all I know
respecting the Water King (called in the German translation "Der
Wasser-Mann") and the Erl-King (called in German Erlkoenig) is gathered
from the foregoing ballad and two others which I shall here insert.
With respect to the Fire King and the Cloud King, they are entirely of
my own creation; but if my readers choose to ascribe their birth to
the "Comte de Gabalis," they are very welcome.

_Weekly Mag._, III-92, Aug. 18, 1798, Phila.

[J. G. Herder, _Der Wassermann_ in the Fourth Book (_Nordische
Lieder_) of _Stimmen der Voelker in Liedern_. Trans. from the German.

M. G. Lewis, _The Monk_ and _Tales of Wonder_. Cf. note to _The
Erl-King_ in _Weekly Mag._, III-93, Aug. 18, 1798.]

WERTER'S FAREWELL TO CHARLOTTE.

"Sunt lacrimae rerum; et mentem mortalia tangunt."

Virg. Ae. I-466.

The conflict's o'er--ah! lovely maid, adieu!
Before these sad, these parting lines, you view;
Before the fields with early dawn shall bloom,
Your Werter rests beneath the silent tomb:
No more to view the beauties of the day,
No more to listen to thy heavenly lay,
To sit, in transport, and to hear thee talk,
Or with thee wander, in an ev'ning walk,
Along the margin of the winding flood,
Thro' the green fields, or in the shady wood.
O! Charlotte! when you see the floods arise,
And wintry storms descending from the skies,
The wat'ry gloom that fills the plain below,
And all around one dreary waste of snow;
Will you not then, a sigh in sorrow heave,
For the lost pleasures of a summer's eve,
Recall the time when you so oft have seen
Thy hapless lover on the verdant green,
Or thro' the vale approaching from the grove,
To view thy charms and pine in hopeless love,
Gaze on thy angel form, for without she,
The world appear'd a boundless blank to me.
As when to seamen, from the midnight skies
The moo