Chapter 6 No.6

All night long they heard in the houses beside the shore, Heard, or

seemed to hear, through the multitudinous roar, Out of the hell of the

rapids as 'twere a lost soul's cries Heard and could not believe; and

the morning mocked their eyes, Showing where wildest and fiercest the

waters leaped up and ran Raving round him and past, the visage of a man

Clinging, or seeming to cling, to the trunk of a tree that, caught Fast

in the rocks below, scarce out of the surges raught. Was it a life,

could it be, to yon slender hope that clung Shrill, above all the tumult

the answering terror rang.