Behind the far hills' sullen ring.
Some stars shone timidly o'erhead;
And towards the west's cadaverous red—
Like some wild dream that haunts the dead
In limbo—the lean moon was led.
Upon the sad, debatable
Vague lands of twilight slowly fell
A silence that I knew too well,
A sorrow that I can not tell.
What way to take, what path to go,