In solitude, when we are least alone.
What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset; And mortals may be happy to resemble The Gods but in decay.
'Tis very certain the desire of life prolongs it.
Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
Yet I did love thee to the last, As ferverently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now.