And on the windy moors;
He found his secret footprints everywhere,
Yea, ev’n by human doors.
All round the deerfold on the shrouded height
The starlight glimmer’d clear;
Therein sat Death, wrapt round with vapours white
Touching the dove-eyed deer.
And thither Balder silent-footed flew,
But found the Phantom not;
The rain-wash’d moon had risen cold and blue