Here, in the face of heaven, accuse
The guilty whom its wrath pursues!”
’Twas hush’d—that voice of thrilling sound!
And a dead silence reign’d around.
Then stood forth one, whose dim-seen form
Tower’d like a phantom in the storm;
Gathering his mantle, as a cloud,
With its dark folds his face to shroud,
Through pillar’d arches on he pass’d,
With stately step, and paused at last,