Of tempest, or the quake of mighty hills—

A mortal cry, a human voice in Hell!

II.

The infernal glare grew brighter, and there came

Unto mine ears the sound of many tongues,

Mingling discordant curse with bitter cry

Of lamentation. On the outer marge

Of Hell's domains, set one at each of four

Far sundered corners, four volcanoes grim

Spewed up their flaming bowels into a sea

Of blackness whence no light could issue forth.

Beyond this fierce horizon, farther yet

Than vision's wing could bear my gaze, I knew

Hell's desolate kingdoms stretched their iron wastes,

Hell's burning mountains waved their brands of flame,

Hell's lava rivers plunged in fury down

Their adamantine beds.

The human cry

Deepened,—the stunning babel shrieked and roared

As though some mighty revolution swept

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