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George Gordon Byron - Darkness
Work rating: Medium

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish`d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
    Swung blind and blackening in the moon­less air; 
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill`d into a selfish prayer for light:
    And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gather`d round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other`s face;
    Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain`d;
Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour
    They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks
Extinguish`d with a crash--and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
    And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and look`d up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky, 
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash`d their teeth and howl`d: the wild birds shriek`d
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl`d
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless--were slain for food.
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again:--a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought--and that was death
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails--men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devour`d,
Even dogs assail`d their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a Gorse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish`d men at bay,
  Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answer`d not with a caress--he died.
The crowd was famish`d by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap`d a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
  Each other`s aspects--saw, and shriek`d, and died--
Even of their mutual hideousness they
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
  The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless,
A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirr`d within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp`d
They slept on the abyss without a surge
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expired before;
The winds were wither`d in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish`d; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them--She was the Universe.

Diodati, July 1816.
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