trive for mastery.
Then grieve not, jolly team! though tough
The road we travel, steep, and rough; [22]
Though Rydal-heights and Dunmail-raise, 140
And all their fellow banks and braes,
Full often make you stretch and strain,
And halt for breath and halt again,
Yet to their sturdiness 'tis owing
That side by side we still are going! 145

While Benjamin in earnest mood
His meditations thus pursued,
A storm, which had been smothered long,
Was growing inwardly more strong;
And, in its struggles to get free, 150
Was busily employed as he.
The thunder had begun to growl--
He heard not, too intent of soul;
The air was now without a breath--
He marked not that 'twas still as death. 155
But soon large rain-drops on his head [23]
Fell with the weight of drops of lead;--
He starts--and takes, at the admonition,
A sage survey of his condition. [24]
The road is black before his eyes, 160
Glimmering faintly where it lies;
Black is the sky--and every hill,
Up to the sky, is blacker still--
Sky, hill, and dale, one dismal room, [25]
Hung round and overhung with gloom; 165
Save that above a single height
Is to be seen a lurid light,
Above Helm-crag [E]--a streak half dead,
A burning of portentous red;
And near that lurid light, full well 170
The ASTROLOGER, sage Sidrophel,
Where at his desk and book he sits,
Puzzling aloft [26] his curious wits;
He whose domain is held in common
With no one but the ANCIENT WOMAN, 175
Cowering beside her rifted cell,
As if intent on magic spell;-
Dread pair, that, spite of wind and weather,
Still sit upon Helm-crag together!

The ASTROLOGER was not unseen 180
By solitary Benjamin;
But total darkness came anon,
And he and every thing was gone:
And suddenly a ruffling breeze,
(That would have rocked the sounding trees 185
Had aught of sylvan growth been there)
Swept through the Hollow long and bare: [27]
The rain rushed down--the road was battered,
As with the force of billows shattered;
The horses are dismayed, nor know 190
Whether they should stand or go;
And Benjamin