"By the wayside, on a mossy stone,
Sat a hoary pilgrim sadly musing;
Oft I marked him sitting there alone,
All the landscape like a page perusing;
Poor unknown,
By the wayside on a mossy stone."
"Seemed it pitiful he should sit there,
No one sympathizing, no one heeding,
None to love him for his thin gray hair.
"One sweet spirit broke the silent spell —
Ah, to me her name was always Heaven !
She besought him all his grief to tell —
(I was then thirteen and she eleven)
Isabel !
One sweet spirit broke the silent spell.
"'Angel', said he, sadly, 'I am old;
Earthly hope no longer hath a morrow:
Why I sit here thou shalt soon be told" —
(Then his eye betrayed a pearl of sorrow —
Down it rolled — )
'Angel', said he, sadly, I am old !"
"O'er all the silent sky
A dark and scowling frown —
But darker scowled each eye
When all resolved to die —
When (night of dread renown!)
A thousand stars went down."