Thy soul shall find itself alone-- Alone of all on earth--unknown The cause--but none are near to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness--for then The spirits of the dead, who stood In life before thee, are again In death around thee, and their will Shall then o'ershadow thee--be still: For the night, tho' clear, shall frown: And the stars shall look not down From their thrones, in the dark heav'n; With light like Hope to mortals giv'n, But their red orbs, without beam, To thy withering heart shall seem As a burning, and a fever Which would cling to thee forever. But 'twill leave thee, as each star In the morning light afar Will fly thee--and vanish: --But its thought though can'st not banish. The breath of God will be still; And the wisp upon the hill By that summer breeze unbrok'n Shall charm thee--as a token, And a symbol which shall be Secrecy in thee.