For The Mountains' Hoarse Greetings Came Hollow From Stormy Wind-Chasms And Caves, And I Heard Their Wild Cataracts Wallow Huge Bulks In Long Spasms Of Waves, And That Demon Said, "Lo! You Must Follow! And Our Path Is O'Er Myriads Of Graves." Then I Felt That The Black Earth Was Porous And Rotten With Worms And With Bones; And I Knew That The Ground That Now Bore Us Was Cadaverous With Death'S Skeletons; And I Saw Horrid Eyes, Heard Sonorous And Dolorous Gnashings And Groans. But The Night Of The Tempest And Thunder, The Might Of The Terrible Skies, And The Fire Of Hell That, - Coiled Under The Hollow Earth, - Smoulders And Sighs, And The Laughter Of Stars And Their Wonder Mingled And Mixed In Its Eyes. And We Clomb - And The Moon Old And Sterile Clomb With Us O'Er Torrent And Scar! And I Yearned Towards Her Oceans Of Beryl, Wan Mountains And Cities Of Spar - "'Tis Not Well," That One Said, "You're In Peril Of Falling And Failing Your Star." And We Clomb - Through A Murmur Of Pinions, Thin Rattle Of Talons And Plumes; And A Sense As Of Boreal Dominions Clove Down To The Abysms And Tombs; And The Night'S Naked, Ethiope Minions Swarmed On Us In Legions Of Glooms. And We Clomb - Till We Stood At The Portal Of The Uttermost Point Of The Peak, And It Led With A Step More Than Mortal Far Upward Some Presence To Seek; And I Felt That This Love Was Immortal, This Love Which Had Made Me So Weak. We Had Clomb Till The Limbo Of Spirits Of Darkness And Crime Deep Below Swung Nebular; Nor Could We Hear Its Lost Wailings And Moanings Of Woe, - For We Stood In A Realm That Inherits A Vanquishing Virgin Of Snow.