Under the dusky covert of his wing.
CXXI.
And so day ended. But no vesper spark
Hung forth its heavenly sign; but sheets of flame
Play'd round the savage features of the dark,
Making night horrible. That night, there came
A weeping maiden to high Sestos' steep,
And tore her hair and gazed upon the deep.
CXXII.
And waved aloft her bright and ruddy torch,