And ran from spire to spire;
And swollen-pale ascended soon,
Like Death in Life, the leprous Moon.
On windy ledges lined with light,
Between the still Stars sparsely strewn,
Two Spirits grew from out the Night
Beneath the mistless Moon,
And held deep parley, making thought
With words sententious half distraught.
One full-robed; in his hand a book;