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Updated: May 8, 2025
The gate where he was leaning grew grey, a sort of shimmer passed be fore him and spread into the bluish darkness. The moon! He could just see it over the bank be hind; red, nearly round-a strange moon! And turning away, he went up the lane which smelled of the night and cowdung and young leaves.
Silent gazed he; mute we waited, Kneeling round-a faithful few, Staunch and true, Whilst above, with thunder freighted, Wild the boisterous north wind blew, And the carrion-bird, unsated, On slant wing around us flew. Sudden, on our startled hearing, Came the low-breathed, stern command "Lo! ye stand?
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