I dreamed one night that I was lost among
The sounding mazes of an endless vault,
Deep-wrought from living stone, where spirits halt
Their fearful flitting, and where grinning hung
Dry, monstrous skeletons, and corpses clung
To crosses for some unforgotten fault--
While dumb lips prayed that hidden Gods exalt
Accursè d souls long since from Heaven flung.. But lo, deep in the shambles' midmost cell
There shone a lamp, and by it, stern and stark,
Amidst a sea of books, a figure sat
That scorned the light and faced the empty dark--
That seemed a God itself--yet could not tell
What in the shadows it was staring at.