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SPIRITS OF THE DEAD 


1

Thy soul shall find itself alone 'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone - Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy:

2

Be silent in that solitude Which is not loneliness - for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee - and their will Shall then overshadow thee: be still.

3

For the night - tho' clear - shall frown - And the stars shall look not down, From their high thrones in the Heaven, With light like Hope to mortals given - But their red orbs, without beam, To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee for ever :

4

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish - Now are visions ne'er to vanish - From thy spirit shall they pass No more - like dew-drop from the grass:

5

The breeze - the breath of God - is still - And the mist upon the hill Shadowy - shadowy - yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token - How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries! -

1827.

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