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He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright,
That spirits were riding the northern light.
That spirits were riding the northern light.
IX.
By a steel-clenched postern door,
They entered now the chancel tall;
The darkened roof rose high aloof
On pillars lofty, and light, and small;
The keystone, that locked each ribbed aisle,
Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille;
The corbells[1] were carved grotesque and grim;
And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim,
With plinth and with capital flourished around,
Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound.
By a steel-clenched postern door,
They entered now the chancel tall;
The darkened roof rose high aloof
On pillars lofty, and light, and small;
The keystone, that locked each ribbed aisle,
Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille;
The corbells[1] were carved grotesque and grim;
And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim,
With plinth and with capital flourished around,
Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound.
X.
Full many a scutcheon and banner, riven,
Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven,
Full many a scutcheon and banner, riven,
Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven,
- ↑ Corbells, the projections from which the arches spring, usually cut into a fantastic face, or mask.
