Darkness
I
had
a
dream,
which
was
not
all
a
dream.
The
bright
sun
was
extinguish'd,
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;
Morn
came
and
went--and
came,
and
brought
no
day,
And
men
forgot
their
passions
in
the
dread
Of
this
their
desolation;
and
all
hearts
Were
chill'd
into
a
selfish
prayer
for
light:
And
they
did
live
by
watchfires--and
the
thrones,
The
palaces
of
crowned
kings--the
huts,
The
habitations
of
all
things
which
dwell,
Were
burnt
for
beacons;
cities
were
consumed,
And
men
were
gather'd
round
their
blazing
homes
To
look
once
more
into
each
other's
face;
Happy
were
those
who
dwelt
within
the
eye
Of
the
volcanos,
and
their
mountain-torch:
A
fearful
hope
was
all
the
world
contain'd;
Forests
were
set
on
fire--but
hour
by
hour
They
fell
and
faded--and
the
crackling
trunks
Extinguish'd
with
a
crash--and
all
was
black.
The
brows
of
men
by
the
despairing
light
Wore
an
unearthly
aspect,
as
by
fits
The
flashes
fell
upon
them;
some
lay
down
And
hid
their
eyes
and
wept;
and
some
did
rest
Their
chins
upon
their
clenched
hands,
and
smiled;
And
others
hurried
to
and
fro,
and
fed
Their
funeral
piles
with
fuel,
and
look'd
up
With
mad
disquietude
on
the
dull
sky,
The
pall
of
a
past
world;
and
then
again
With
curses
cast
them
down
upon
the
dust,
And
gnash'd
their
teeth
and
howl'd:
the
wild
birds
shriek'd
And,
terrified,
did
flutter
on
the
ground,
And
flap
their
useless
wings;
the
wildest
brutes
Came
tame
and
tremulous;
and
vipers
crawl'd
And
twined
themselves
among
the
multitude,
Hissing,
but
stingless--were
slain
for
food.
And
War,
which
for
a
moment
was
no
more,
Did
glut
himself
again:--a
meal
was
bought
With
blood,
and
each
sate
sullenly
apart
Gorging
himself
in
gloom:
no
love
was
left;
All
earth
was
but
one
thought--and
that
was
death
Immediate
and
inglorious;
and
the
pang
Of
famine
fed
upon
all
entrails--men
Died,
and
their
bones
were
tombless
as
their
flesh;
The
meagre
by
the
meagre
were
devour'd,
Even
dogs
assail'd
their
masters,
all
save
one,
And
he
was
faithful
to
a
Gorse,
and
kept
The
birds
and
beasts
and
famish'd
men
at
bay,
Till
hunger
clung
them,
or
the
dropping
dead
Lured
their
lank
jaws;
himself
sought
out
no
food,
But
with
a
piteous
and
perpetual
moan,
And
a
quick
desolate
cry,
licking
the
hand
Which
answer'd
not
with
a
caress--he
died.
The
crowd
was
famish'd
by
degrees;
but
two
Of
an
enormous
city
did
survive,
And
they
were
enemies:
they
met
beside
The
dying
embers
of
an
altar-place
Where
had
been
heap'd
a
mass
of
holy
things
For
an
unholy
usage;
they
raked
up,
And
shivering
scraped
with
their
cold
skeleton
hands
The
feeble
ashes,
and
their
feeble
breath
Blew
for
a
little
life,
and
made
a
flame
Which
was
a
mockery;
then
they
lifted
up
Their
eyes
as
it
grew
lighter,
and
beheld
Each
other's
aspects--saw,
and
shriek'd,
and
died--
Even
of
their
mutual
hideousness
they
Unknowing
who
he
was
upon
whose
brow
Famine
had
written
Fiend.
The
world
was
void,
The
populous
and
the
powerful
was
a
lump,
Seasonless,
herbless,
treeless,
manless,
lifeless,
A
lump
of
death--a
chaos
of
hard
clay.
The
rivers,
lakes,
and
ocean
all
stood
still,
And
nothing
stirr'd
within
their
silent
depths;
Ships
sailorless
lay
rotting
on
the
sea,
And
their
masts
fell
down
piecemeal:
as
they
dropp'd
They
slept
on
the
abyss
without
a
surge
The
waves
were
dead;
the
tides
were
in
their
grave,
The
moon,
their
mistress,
had
expired
before;
The
winds
were
wither'd
in
the
stagnant
air,
And
the
clouds
perish'd;
Darkness
had
no
need
Of
aid
from
them--She
was
the
Universe.
