By a route obscure and lonely, Where an Eidolon, namèd NIGHT, I have reached these lands but newly From a wild weird clime that lieth sublime II. Bottomless vales and boundless floods, And chasms and caves and Titan woods, With forms that no man can discover For the dews that drip all over; Mountains toppling evermore Into seas without a shore; Seas that restlessly aspire, Surging unto skies of fire; Their lone waters, lone and dead,— With the snows of the lolling lily. III. By the lakes that thus outspread Where dwell the ghouls; By each spot the most unholy, There the traveller meets aghast Shrouded forms that start and sigh IV. For the heart whose woes are legion But the traveller, travelling through it, And thus the sad soul that here passes V. By a route obscure and lonely, Where an Eidolon, namèd Night, |