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The shade where forest-trees shut out All but the distant sky;— I've felt the loneliness of night When the dark winds pass'd by; My pulse has quickened with its awe, My lip has gasped for breath; But what were they to such as this— The solitude of death!

A single grave!—we half forget How sunder human ties, When round the silent place of rest A gathered kindred lies. We stand beneath the haunted yew, And watch each quiet tomb; And in the ancient churchyard feel Solemnity, not gloom: