The dismal hootings of the darkling owl,
The melancholy notes of Whip-poor-will,
And the lone wolf’s far distant long-drawn howl,
Answered at times by panther screaming shrill,
Such hideous echoes through the forest roll,
That Mary shudders, and, from transient sleep,
The infants starting up for terror weep.
XLI.
But Williams listened with accustomed ear,
The dread of man alone disturbed his breast;