Groaning, because their unused eyes
Can scarce endure Earth's blackest night;
It wounds them as 'twere furious light
And stars were flame-clouds in the skies.
What tenderness and sad amaze
Must grieve lost spirits when they gaze
Beneath a withered moon, and view
The ancient happiness they knew—
The live, sweet world and all its ways!
Ho, Deadmen! for a night you're free