'All earthly hope had passed away, And each clock-stroke brought Death more nigh To the still-chamber where she lay, With soul and body calmed to die; But _mine_ was not her heavenward eye When hot tears scorched me, as her doom Made my sick heart throb heavily To give impatient anguish room. '"Oh now," methought, "a little while, And this great house will hold no more Her whose fond love the gloom could while Of many a long night gone before!" Oh! all those happy hours were o'er When, seated by our own fireside, I'd smile to hear the wild winds roar, And turn to clasp my beauteous bride. 'I could not bear the thoughts which rose Of what _had_ been, and what _must_ be, And still the dark night would disclose Its sorrow-pictured prophecy; Still saw I--miserable me-- Long, long nights else, in lonely gloom, With time-bleached locks and trembling knee-- Walk aidless, hopeless, to my tomb. 'Still, still that tomb's eternal shade Oppressed my heart with sickening fear, When I could see its shadow spread Over each dreary future year, Whose vale of tears woke such despair That, with the sweat-drops on my brow, I wildly raised my hands in prayer That Death would come and take me now; 'Then stopped to hear an answer given-- So much had madness warped my mind-- When, sudden, through the midnight heaven, With long howl woke the Winter's wind; And roused in me, though undefined, A rushing thought of tumbling seas Whose wild waves wandered unconfined, And, far-off, surging, whispered, "Peace." 'I cannot speak the feeling strange, Which showed that vast December sea, Nor tell whence came that sudden change From aidless, hopeless misery; But somehow it revealed to me A life--when things I loved were gone-- Whose solitary liberty Might suit me wandering tombward on. ''Twas not that I forgot my love-- That night departing evermore-- 'Twas hopeless grief for her that drove My soul from all it prized before; That misery called me to explore A new-born life, whose stony joy Might calm the pangs of sorrow o'er, Might _shrine_ their memory, not destroy. 'I rose, and drew the curtains back To gaze upon the starless waste, And image on that midnight wrack The path on which I longed to haste, From storm to storm continual cast, And not one moment given to view; O'er mind's wild winds the memories passed Of hearts I loved--of scenes I knew.