“I wish’d to die—and grief, they say, will kill; But you perceive ’tis slowly, if it will. That I was wretched you may well believe— I judged it right, and was resolved to grieve. 240 I lost my mother when there lived not one, Man, woman, child, whom I would seek or shun. “The Dean, my uncle, with congenial gloom, Said, ‘Will you share a melancholy home?’ For he bewail’d a wife, as I deplored My fate, and bliss that could not be restored. “In his cathedral’s gloom I pass’d my time Much in devotion, much in thought sublime; There oft I paced the aisles, and watch’d the glow Of the sun setting on the stones below, 250 And saw the failing light, that strove to pass Through the dim coating of the storied glass, Nor fell within, but till the day was gone The red faint fire upon the window shone. I took the key, and oft-times chose to stay Till all was vanish’d of the tedious day, Till I perceived no light, nor heard a sound, That gave me notice of a world around. “Then had I grief’s proud thoughts, and said, in tone Of exultation, ‘World, I am alone! 260 I care not for thee, thou art vile and base, And I shall leave thee for a nobler place.’ “So I the world abused—in fact, to me Urbane and civil as a world could be; Nor should romantic grievers thus complain, Although but little in the world they gain; But let them think if they have nothing done To make this odious world so sad a one; Or what their worth and virtue, that should make This graceless world so pleasant for their sake. 270 “But to my tale:—Behold me as I tread The silent mansions of the favour’d dead, Who sleep in vaulted chambers, till their clay, } In quiet dissolution, melts away } In this their bodies’ home—The spirits, where are they? } ‘And where _his_ spirit?—Doors and walls impede The embodied spirit, not the spirit freed’. And, saying this, I at the altar knelt, And painful joys and rapturous anguish felt; Till strong, bold hopes possess’d me, and I cried, 280 ‘Even at this instant is he at my side; Yes, now, dear spirit! art thou by, to prove That mine is lasting, mine the loyal love!’ “Thus have I thought, returning to the Dean, As one who had some glorious vision seen. He ask’d no question, but would sit and weep, And cry, in doleful tone, ‘I cannot sleep!’ “In dreams the chosen of my heart I view’d, And thus th’ impression day by day renew’d; I saw him always, always loved to see, 290 For, when alone, he was my company; In company, with him alone I seem’d, And, if not dreaming, was as one who dream’d. “Thus, robb’d of sleep, I found, when evening came, A pleasing torpor steal upon my frame; But still the habit drew my languid feet To the loved darkness of the favourite seat; And there, by silence and by sadness press’d, I felt a world my own, and was at rest.