In the mean time, the storm had ceased, the darkness was dispersed, and
only a few thin and fleecy clouds were scattered over the blue expanse.
The sun had for some time sunk beneath the western hills. The heavens,
clear and serene, had assumed a deeper tint, and were spangled over with
stars. The moon, in calm and silver lustre, lent her friendly light to
the weary traveller. Edwin was fatigued and faint. He tried to give vent
to his complaints; but his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth: his
spirits sunk within him. No sound now reached his ears but the baying of
the shepherds dogs, and the _drowsy tinklings_ of the _distant
folds_. The owl, the solemn bird of night, sat buried among the
branches of the aged oak, and with her melancholy hootings gave an
additional serenity to the scene. At a small distance, on his right
hand, he perceived a contiguous object that reflected the rays of the
moon, through the willows and the hazels, and chequered the view with a
clear and settled lustre. He approached it. It was the lake of Elwy; and
near it he discovered that huge pile of stones, so well known to him,
which had been reared ages since, by the holy Druids. It was upon this
spot that they worshipped the Gods. But they had no habitation near it.
They repaired thither at stated intervals from the woods of Mona, and
the shores of Arvon. One only Druid lived by the banks of the silver
flood, and watched the temple day and night, that no rude hand might do
violence to the sanctity of the place, and no profaner mortal, with
sacrilegious foot might enter the mysterious edifice. It was surrounded
with a wall of oaks. The humbler shrubs filled up their interstices, and
there was no avenue to the sacred shade, except by two narrow paths on
either side the lake.

The solemn stilness of the scene for a moment hushed the sorrows of
Edwin into oblivion. Ah, short oblivion! scarcely had he gazed around