LXXVI.
I would have call’d, adjuring the dark cloud;
To the most ancient heavens I would have said—
“Speak to me! show me truth!”[295]—through night aloud
I would have cried to him, the newly dead,
“Come back! and show me truth!” My spirit seem’d
Gasping for some free burst, its darkness teem’d
With such pent storms of thought! Again I fled,
I fled, a refuge from man’s face to gain,
Scarce conscious when I paused, entering a lonely fane.