Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even：
Away！ the gathering winds will call the darkness soon
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Pause not！ the time is past！ Every voice cries 'Away！'
Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood：
Thy lover's eye so glazed and cold dares not entreat thy stay：
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Away away！ to thy sad and silent home；
Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth；
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come
And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth.
The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head
The blooms of dewy Spring shall gleam beneath thy feet：
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead
Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile ere thou and peace may meet.
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose
For the weary winds are silent or the moon is in the deep；
Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows；
Whatever moves or toils or grieves hath its appointed sleep.
Thou in the grave shalt rest：—yet till the phantoms flee
Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile
Thy remembrance and repentance and deep musings are not free
From the music of two voices and the light of one sweet smile.