This was my friend. Deep night descends, perfused
With unsubstantial glory from beyond.
The stars are buried in the mist of light.
Beyond the hill the world is, and laments
Existence—the wide firmament of woe!
And he—his heart was great enough for all,
The fall of sparrows as the crash of stars,
The tears of lonely forests, and the pain
Of the least atom—all were in his heart.
Was that indeed the truth? that he should come