 | Along the trail |  |
THE SHADOWS
Dumb as the dead, with furtive tread,
Unseen, unheard, unknown,—
And never a Gloom that turns his head
As they stride where I crouch alone!
Unseen, unheard, unknown,—
And never a Gloom that turns his head
As they stride where I crouch alone!
For this is the grisliest horror there
As the brutal bulks go by;
Right on they fare, with a stony stare,
Nor heed me where I lie.
As the brutal bulks go by;
Right on they fare, with a stony stare,
Nor heed me where I lie.
Though I strain my eyes as I freeze and cringe
Till the sockets sizzle dry,
And the eyeball shrieks like a rusty hinge,
They will never impinge mine eye.
Till the sockets sizzle dry,
And the eyeball shrieks like a rusty hinge,
They will never impinge mine eye.
I shall see nought but the silver darks
Of the sky and the dim sea,
Where horrid silver loops and arcs
Foam phosphorent at me.
Of the sky and the dim sea,
Where horrid silver loops and arcs
Foam phosphorent at me.
98
But the cliff, the cliff! Lo, where thereon
Their silent shadows file,
One after one, one after one,
Mile on remorseless mile.
Their silent shadows file,
One after one, one after one,
Mile on remorseless mile.
Dull red, like embers in a grate,
Against the sulphur crag,
They play about the feet of Fate
Their awful game of tag.
Against the sulphur crag,
They play about the feet of Fate
Their awful game of tag.
1893
| Along the trail | |