And storm-clouds now are lowering round;
Wild demon shapes are flitting by;
Fierce flames are rising from the ground,
And lurid lightnings cleave the sky.
Bleak snow-capped mountains o'er us frown,
While, gray and grim, through darkened air,
Towers and turrets, looking down
From rocky heights o'erhanging there,
Seem prisons for the wandering brain,
Within whose deep and caverned walls