His torch was fain, for o’er the moon was roll’d
A mighty cloud from heaven, to blot her light.
27
And thro’ the darkness for long while was seen
That armour’d train with waving fires to thread
Downwards, by pass, defile, and black ravine,
Each leading on the way that he was led.
Slowly they gain’d the plain, and one by one
Into the shadows of the woods were gone,
Or in the clinging mists were quench’d and fled.