Far-off; and lipless muttering of tombs,

With clash of bones bestirred in ancient charnels

Beneath their shroud of unclean light that crawls.***

Earth shudders, and rank odours ’gin to rise

From tombs a-crack; and shaken out all at once

From mid-air, and directly neath the moon,

Meseems what hanging wing divides the light,

Like a black film of gloom, or thickest shadow;

But on the tombs there is no shadow!

FIRST WITCH: