AWAY! the moor is dark beneath the moon, <br /> Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even: <br />Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon, <br /> And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven. <br />Pause not! the time is past! Every voice cries, 'Away!' <br /> Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood: <br />Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay: <br /> Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude. <br /> <br />Away, away! to thy sad and silent home; <br /> Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth; <br />Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come, <br /> And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth. <br />The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head, <br /> The blooms of dewy Spring shall gleam beneath thy feet: <br />But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead, <br /> Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile, ere thou and peace, may <br /> meet. <br /> <br />The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose, <br /> For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep; <br />Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows; <br /> Whatever moves or toils or grieves hath its appointed sleep. <br />Thou in the grave shalt rest:--yet, till the phantoms flee, <br /> Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile, <br />Thy remembrance and repentance and deep musings are not free <br /> From the music of two voices, and the light of one sweet smile.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/remorse/
