A voice sang overhead.
Thrice, under its warlock turrets,
Where the causeway of rock was laid;
Thrice, there at its owlet portal,
His scornful bugle brayed;
And the drawbridge clanged at his summons,
And he rode in unafraid.
The heavens were riven asunder,
One glare of blinding storm;
And the blackness, chasmed with thunder,