A stream of light ascended, spreading round
A partial view of trackless solitudes;
And mingling voices seem’d, with busy hum,
To break the spell of horrors. Down the steep
The Hermit hasten’d, when a shriek of death
Re-echoed to the valley. As he flew,
(The treach’rous pathway yielding to his speed,)
Half hoping, half despairing, to the scene
Of wonder-waking anguish, suddenly
The torches were extinct; and second night