I looked abroad; gloom, only gloom;
Weird, solemn, chill and densely drear; Black curtain over nature's bier; Silence oppressive as of doom.

"Oh soul!" I said, "though morn be bright,
Though gorgeous vistas charm life's day, Descends on every earth-trod way Cold mortal chill, bereavement's night."

Once more I looked; transcendent shine!
The myriad gates of light unbarred; The glowing heavens serenely starred; Dull earth transformed to scene divine.