A Funeral Fantasie : Pale, at its ghastly noon, Pauses above the death still wood the moon, the night sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs, the clouds descend in rain, Mourning, the wan stars wane, flickering like dying lamps in sepulchres! Haggard as spectres vision like and dumb, dark with the pomp of death, and moving slow, towards that sad lair the pale procession come where the grave closes on the night below. With dim, deep sunken eye, crutched on his staff, who trembles tottering by? As wrungfrom out the shattered heart, one groan Breaks the deep hush alone! Crushed by the iron fat, he seems to gather all life’s last strength to stagger to the bier, and hearken do this cold lips munmur “father”? the sharp rain, drizzling through that place of fear, pierces the bones gnawed fleshless by despair, and the heart’s horror stirs the silver hair. [download]
Format : Ebook.Pdf
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar