A deeper gloom, that seemeth to emerge
From gloomy night—and bending forth, to urge
His eyeless steeds, fleet as the tempest’s blast:
And hear we not eternity’s dim surge
Thundering anear? At the dread sound aghast,
Time hurries headlong, pale with frantic terror, past.
THE BROTHER AND SISTER.
———
BY MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY.