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MUSINGS
I pass'd on my nightly path alone;
No friendly form was hovering near,
No friendly voice was in mine ear,
But the night wind's wailing tone.
On the wide drear field no autumn bloom
Look'd gay, no flowret's rich perfume
Was breathing incense o'er the pall
Of the shrouded earth: and dark and tall
And sighing to the passing breeze
Stood up the gray old trees.
I pass'd on my nightly path alone
And my weary feet trode faintly on:
I look'd around me—the desolate earth
To wan and sorrowful thoughts gave birth
And flung its own dark-woven stole
And its damp chill breathings o'er my soul
And my spirit was heavy: It is sad
To look on this beautiful earth when clad
In its robes of darkness; as it were
But one vast chamber of the dead:
xvii
