The inner and outer life are closely blended in The Early Grave:
Welcome, O silver moon,
Fair still companion of the night!
Friend of the pensive, flee not soon;
Thou stayest, and the clouds pass light.
Young waking May alone
Is fair as summer's night so still,
When from his locks the dews drop down,
And, rosy, he ascends the hill.
Ye noble souls and true,