Appear’d the shadow of th’ advancing train,—
Small as a hand, but rapid in its growth,—
As on they came upon the yellow path:
Great as a mountain the dire shade had grown,
When suddenly a dreadful blast was blown
By fifty heralds in the foremost cloud;
They blew again, but fifty times more loud,
So that the atmosphere of hell did quake,
And caus’d a hissing like a python snake.
Then came the thunder of the chariot wheels,