86
SHREDS AND PATCHES.
As tho' the halls of memory again
Gave back the echo of forgotten pain.
He loved the gloaming of the twilight hour,
When the bright day is fading on the sight.
He loved to seek some soft, and lonely bower,
And there, alone, to gaze upon the night.
He loved to watch the pale, and wandering stars,
When Luna's beams danced on the midnight sea;
To mark the shivering beams of fiery Mars;
To muse on death, and bright eternity.
All these he loved; but man he shunned, and feared,
For in mankind too soon his life was seared.
His faith was nailed unflinchingly to one,
But, when he proved unworthy, there were none
Who e'er could fill the place he once supplied:
For virtue was by him for aye belied.
Gave back the echo of forgotten pain.
He loved the gloaming of the twilight hour,
When the bright day is fading on the sight.
He loved to seek some soft, and lonely bower,
And there, alone, to gaze upon the night.
He loved to watch the pale, and wandering stars,
When Luna's beams danced on the midnight sea;
To mark the shivering beams of fiery Mars;
To muse on death, and bright eternity.
All these he loved; but man he shunned, and feared,
For in mankind too soon his life was seared.
His faith was nailed unflinchingly to one,
But, when he proved unworthy, there were none
Who e'er could fill the place he once supplied:
For virtue was by him for aye belied.
