And both now felt that, with that smothered ray,
The last faint trembling hope had died away.
XLVII.
A fearful growl, close to the cavern’s vent,
First broke the thrall of horror and surprise;
And, by the gleam the smouldering embers sent,
That canine hybrid, shooting from his eyes
A baleful glare, crouched seemingly intent
On the scared infants as his famine’s prize;
The father drove the hatchet to his brains,