Sonnet Xxxiv: Poem by George Henry Boker

My length in earth would now contain me all,
All my ambitions, all my loves and hates--
Those high resolves that grappled with the Fates,
And aimed to lord it o'er this dusty ball.
For, ah! My Love, the stern, imperious call
That sundered us, a little antedates--
A little only--the great change that waits
Upon the tolling bell and sable pall.
And thou, my soul, with such untimely haste
Divorced from this thy substance, whither now
Sad shadow, dim reflection, wanderest thou?
In what dark bound of death, what Stygian waste,
Alone, a stranger, is thy fortune placed,
Pale essence, with wild eyes and troubled brow?