In the murky moon. Look how—look how
The ghostly globes of fairy fire
Ooze from the marsh-mire and creep up
Their callow stems and leap in air,
Becoming fen-fires. Listen! Hark!
The croaking chorus of the fen.
Toads.Glick, gluck, glickutty gluck,
Glickutty, glickutty, glickutty gluck.
Melfort.See, see, my soul! O what is this?
A snake?—A steel that gleaming lies!