Darkness by Lord Byron — Read

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.