thy phantom that is the soul shall reveal itself
widowed 'mid lightless perceptions of the ashen
gravestone. not one-of all the troupe-to intrude into that solitude. be soundless in that isolation which is not confinement. then the ghosts who stood in mortal being
before thee, are again in decease  -neighboring thee; and their intention shall govern thee.  be motionless. the night-tho dimmed- shall glare; and the stars shall not watch over you from their cathedra in the heaven -with luster like fortune to the perishable given: but their eyes to thy indifference shall seem as an all-consuming blaze... which would embrace thee -forever and ever. now are ideas you shall not cast out. now are concepts never to fade away... from thy frame of mind shall they befall no more -like frost upon the ground. the gusts of wind are still, and the fogs upon mountains high are as umbrae.
yet in tact do they remain. O! how they hang upon this, the midnight air -most arcane!