The sounding river, which rolled forever,
Stood dumb and stagnant after.”
Just then a cloud swept over the noonday sun; a chill struck through the open window; the wind which blew in, fluttering the page, could not have been more dreary had it blown across a churchyard. Shivering, I continued to read:
“It trembled on the grass
With a low, shadowy laughter;
And the wind did toll, as a passing soul
Were sped by church-bell after;
And shadows ’stead of light,
Fell from the stars above,
In flakes of darkness on her face