Sunshine with shadow—rosy day with night —
And sleeping Death with glory-wakened Life.
A close dark mantle wrapped his agéd form,
His brow uncovered, though a snowy lock,
Stirred by the breeze of morning, waved above
Its frozen marble; while the gathered shades
Of many years hung, like a coronal
Of withered leaves, around it—and his eyes,
Strange, deep, and fathomless, gleamed forth beneath
Its deadly whiteness, like two liquid flames.