“ Blackly squats o'er the wold; But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings unhallowed and old.There is death in the clouds, There is fear in the night, For the dead in their shrouds Hail the sun's turning flight. ”
“ Blackly squats o'er the wold; But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings unhallowed and old.There is death in the clouds, There is fear in the night, For the dead in their shrouds Hail the sun's turning flight. ”
