If my soul was not fitted to prize it, 'Twas folly not sooner to shun: And if dearly that error hath cost me, And more than I once could foresee, I have found that, whatever it lost me, It could not deprive me of thee. 6. From the wreck of the past, which hath perish'd, It hath taught me that what I most cherish'd In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee. DARKNESS. I HAD a dream, which was not all a dream. Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came, and went-and came, and brought no day, And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light: And they did live by watchfires-and the thrones, The palaces of crowned kings-the huts, The habitations of all things which dwell, Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed, Extinguish'd with a crash-and all was black. The flashes fell upon them; some lay down And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up The pall of a past world; and then again With curses cast them down upon the dust, And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd, And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes All earth was but one thought—and that was death, Immediate and inglorious; and the pang Of famine fed upon all entrails-men Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh; The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay, And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two And they were enemies; they met beside The dying embers of an altar-place Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things For an unholy usage; they raked up, And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery; then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects-saw, and shriek'd, and diedEven of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose brow VOL. IV. Famine had written Fiend. The world was void, And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths; And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp'd The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon their mistress had expired before; |