Classic Poem

I travel through a land of night;
No moon, no stars, give friendly light,
The winds blow chill and wild.
How oft have I this journey made,
When blandest breezes round me played,
And golden sunshine smiled!

I ride through gardens of the night;
Dry trees, like spectres, mock my sight,
Dead leaves fall rustling round.
Ah! in the time of roses, here,
With all my loves and treasures near,
What rapture once I found!

The sunbeams all are quenched and fled,
The roses faded all, and dead,
My love is in the grave.
I fold my mantle round me tight,
And hurry through the land of night,
Where storm and winter rave.