II.
How fearfully my step resounds
Along these lonely bounds:—
Spare, savage blast! the taper's quiv'ring fires,
Deep in these gath'ring shades its flame expires.
Ye host of heaven! the door recedes—
It mocks my grasp—what unseen hands
Have burst its iron bands?
No mortal force this gate unbarr'd
Where danger lives, which terrors guard—
Dread powers! its screaming hinges close
On this dire scene of impious deeds—
My feet are fix'd!—Dismay has bound
My step on this polluted ground—
But lo! the pitying moon, a line of light
Athwart the horrid darkness dimly throws,
And from yon grated window chases night.—