A blaze that seems to search his heart;
The pure, eternal stars of night
Upbraid him with their silent light;
And the dread spirit, which pervades
And hallows earth’s most lonely shades,
In every scene, in every hour,
Surrounds him with chastising power—
With nameless fear his soul to thrill,
Heard, felt, acknowledged, present still!
’Twas the chilly close of an autumn day,