I saw the deed—why then appear?
Thou art not form’d of blood and bone!
Come not, dread being, come not near!
VII.
So! all is quiet, calm, serene;
I walk a noble mansion round— 50
From room to room, from scene to scene,
I breathless pass, in gloom profound;
No human shape, no mortal sound—
I feel an awe, I own a dread,