This third time then he paused to recognize
The Witches’ Cauldron only known before
By hearsay, fly-like on whose rim he had crawled
Three times and three times dipped to climb again
Its uncouth sides, so to go crawling on.
By falls of scree, moss-mantled slippery rock,
Wet bracken, drunken gurgling watercourses,
He escaped limping at last, and broke the circuit
Travelling down and down; but smooth descent
Interrupted by new lakes and ridges,