Starts at the noise, and both the herdman's ears
Tingle with inward dread—aghast he eyes
The mountain's height, and all the ridges round,
Yet not one trace of living wight discerns,
Nor knows, o'erawed and trembling as he stands,
To what or whom he owes his idle fear—
To ghost, to witch, to fairy, or to fiend;
But wonders, and no end of wondering finds."
We listened for the hunt, but could only hear the wind sobbing from the blind "Hopes."[[3]]
[3] The native word for hollows in the hills: thus, Dryhope, Gameshope, Chapelhope, &c.