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Updated: May 19, 2025
He heard the deep behind him, and a cry Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clashed his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
"Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels." "As for the grass, it grew as scant as hair In leprosy; their dry blades pricked the mud Which underneath looked kneaded up with blood.
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