On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showers,
Chequered with all the tracery of the Hall;
He shuddered, as no doubt the bravest cowers
When he can't tell what 'tis that doth appal.
How odd, a single hobgoblin's nonentity
Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity!
CXXI.
But still the Shade remained: the blue eyes glared,
And rather variably for stony death;
Yet one thing rather good the grave had spared,