VI.

Night, in utmost noon forlorn and strong, with heart athirst and fasting, Hungers here, barred up for ever, whence as one whom dreams affright Day recoils before the low-browed lintel threatening doom and casting Night.

Lower than dive the thoughts of spirit-stricken fear in souls forecasting Hell, the deep void seems to yawn beyond fear's reach, and higher than sight Rise the walls and roofs that compass it about with everlasting Night.