On gloomy towers and darkling bastions foam,
And lonely eyes look out for one dim sail
That never comes, and men have said there is
No sun.—And though I go forth soon no fear
Shall cling to me, since I a thousand times
Ere this have died, or seemed in truth to die.
For sun by sun the grave insatiable
Has taken to its gloom some fleeting grace,
And day by day some glory old engulfed,
And left me as a house untenanted.