Iv

And, oh! when the sunlight comes heaping With glitter the mist of those chasms, The foam of those musical chasms, You may hear a lamenting and weeping, And see in the vastness far sweeping, In wild and æolian spasms, Down, down in those voluble chasms, The Spirits of Light and of Darkness. And the wave from the gray-hearted granite In rivers rolls rippling around; Meanders through shade-haunted forests, Where many rock-barriers can span it, And dash it in froth and in sound; Where the nights with their great moons can wan it, Or star its dark stillness profound.