But now with other mind I stand alone Upon the summit of this naked cone, And watch the fearless chamois-hunter chase 305 His prey, through tracts abrupt of desolate space, [82] [T] Through vacant worlds where Nature never gave A brook to murmur or a bough to wave, Which unsubstantial Phantoms sacred keep; Thro' worlds where Life, and Voice, and Motion sleep; 310 Where silent Hours their death-like sway extend, Save when the avalanche breaks loose, to rend Its way with uproar, till the ruin, drowned In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound, Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound. [83] 315 --'Tis his, while wandering on from height to height, To see a planet's pomp and steady light In the least star of scarce-appearing night; While the pale moon moves near him, on the bound Of ether, shining with diminished round, [84] 320 And far and wide the icy summits blaze, Rejoicing in the glory of her rays: To him the day-star glitters small and bright, Shorn of its beams, insufferably white, And he can look beyond the sun, and view 325 Those fast-receding depths of sable blue Flying till vision can no more pursue! [85] --At once bewildering mists around him close, And cold and hunger are his least of woes; The Demon of the snow, with angry roar 330 Descending, shuts for aye his prison door. Soon with despair's whole weight his spirits sink; Bread has he none, the snow must be his drink; And, ere his eyes can close upon the day, [86] The eagle of the Alps o'ershades her prey. 335