And at night not hear shall I

Clear the voice of nightingale

Nor the forest's hollow sound,

But cries alone of companions mine

And the scolding guards of night

And a whizzing, of chains a ringing.

1833.

DEATH-THOUGHTS.

WHETHER I roam along the noisy streets

Whether I enter the peopled temple,

Whether I sit by thoughtless youth,

Haunt my thoughts me everywhere.

I - say, Swiftly go the years by:

However great our number now,

Must all descend the eternal vaults, -

Already struck has some one's hour.

And if I gaze upon the lonely oak

I - think: the patriarch of the woods

Will survive my passing age

As he survived my father's age.

And if a tender babe I fondle

Already I mutter, Fare thee well!

I - yield my place to thee. For me

'T is time to decay, to bloom for thee

Every year thus, every day

With death my thought I join

Of coming death the day

I seek among them to divine.

Where will Fortune send me death?

In battle? In wanderings, or on the waves?

Or shall the valley neighboring

Receive my chilled dust?

But tho' the unfeeling body

Can everywhere alike decay,