I

Thy soul shall find itself alone‘Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:

II

Be silent in hat solitude,
Which is not loneliness - for them
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee - and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.

III

The night - tho’ clear - shall frown -
And the stars shall look not down,
From their high thrones in the heaven,
With light like Hope to mortal given -
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and fever
Which would cling to thee for ever

IV

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish -
Now are visions ne’er to vanish -
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more - like drew-drop from the grass.

V

The breeze - the breath of God - is still-
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy - Shadowy - yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token -
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

Rit:

Shadows, shall burn, shadows
Won’t you be there to breath tender breeze of unsoul?
D’you leave us all? us alone?
You won’t be there…

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