In Shadowland
Between the moaning of the mountain
stream1
And the hoarse thunder of the Atlantic deep,2
An outcast from the peaceful realms of sleep3
I lie, and hear as in a fever-dream4
The homeless night-wind in the darkness
scream5
scream5
And wail around the inaccessible steep6
Down whose gaunt sides the spectral torrents leap7
From crag to crag,—till almost I could deem8
The plaided ghosts of buried centuries9
Were mustering in the glens with bow and spear10
And shadowy hounds to hunt the shadowy deer,11
Mix in phantasmal sword-play, or, with eyes12
Of wrath and pain immortal, wander o’er13
Loved scenes where human footstep comes no more.14