"...Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneleyness; and then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee; are again
In death around thee; and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still
The night, though clear, shall frown
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
to your weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever..."