Forth from the cave did Roland rush, O'er crag and stream, through brier and bush; Yet far he had not sped, Ere sunk was that portentous light Behind the hills, and utter night Was on the valley spread. He paused perforce, and blew his horn, And, on the mountain echoes borne, Was heard an answering sound, A wild and lonely trumpet-note,-- In middle air it seemed to float High o'er the battled mound; And sounds were heard, as when a guard Of some proud castle, holding ward, Pace forth their nightly round. The valiant Knight of Triermain Rung forth his challenge-blast again, But answer came there none; And 'mid the mingled wind and rain, Darkling he sought the vale in vain, Until the dawning shone; And when it dawn'd, that wondrous sight, Distinctly seen by meteor-light, It all had passed away! And that enchanted mount once more A pile of granite fragments bore, As at the close of day. Steel'd for the deed, De Vaux's heart Scorn'd from his venturous quest to part, He walks the vale once more; But only sees, by night or day, That shatter'd pile of rocks so gray, Hears but the torrent's roar. Till when, through hills of azure borne, The moon renew'd her silver horn, Just at the time her waning ray, Had faded in the dawning day, A summer mist arose; Adown the vale the vapours float, And cloudy undulations moat That tufted mound of mystic note, As round its base they close. And higher now the fleecy tide Ascends its stern and shaggy side, Until the airy billows hide The rock's majestic isle; It seem'd a veil of filmy lawn, By some fantastic fairy drawn Around enchanted pile. The breeze came softly down the brook, And sighing as it blew, The veil of silver mist it shook, And to De Vaux's eager look Renew'd that wondrous view, For, though the loitering vapour braved The gentle breeze, yet oft it waved It's mantle's dewy fold: And still, when shook that filmy screen, Were towers and bastions dimly seen, And Gothic battlements between Their gloomy length unroll'd, Speed, speed, De Vaux, ere on thine eye Once more the fleeting vision die! --The gallant knight can speed As prompt and light as when the hound Is opening, and the horn is wound, Careers the hunter's steed. Down the steep dell his course amain Hath rivall'd archer's shaft; But ere the mound he could attain, The rocks their shapeless form regain, And, mocking loud his labour vain, The mountain spirits laugh'd. Far up the echoing dell was borne Their wild unearthly shout of scorn.