Darkness

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless and pathless; and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;

Mourning its own, as annihilation came. So solemn the pit of silence, and the gloom Was full of sighs and dead features grim. Yet all round echoes of a vague dread voice, Crowded by horrors there;—and still I stood,

And on the ravaged bosom, all was naught Yet even so, the wild fugue resounded forth; Pausing, clasped as in an embrace, one form,

• Lord Byron