Page:Unpublished poems by Bryant and Thoreau.djvu/27



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: