Pathology - Alone - Spirits Of The Dead lyrics

Thy soul shall find itself alone 'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone- Not one, of all the crowd, 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 three, are again In d**h around three- and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still. The night- tho clear-shall frown- And the stars shall look not down, From their high thrones in the heaven, With light like hope to mortals given- But their red-orbs, without beam, To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee for ever. Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish- Now are visions ne'er to vanish- From thy spirit shall they pa** No more- like dew-drops from the gra**. The breeze- the breath of God- is still And the mist upon the hill Shadowy- shadowy- yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token- How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries!-