Classic Poem

I came up from the hoary Sea,
Like Pilgrim from a far countree;
The path wound through an ancient wood,
A silent solemn solitude,
I felt my human foot the first
That ever had its stillness burst.
A sense of awe, and doubt, and fear,
The expectancy of evil near,
The shadow, not to be put by,
Of following necessity,
Crept o'er me as the jagged trees,
Muttering above their mysteries,
Impended o'er, their fringing boughs
Arched over me like hollow brows,
Instinct with eyes that on me dwelt,
That looked into my soul; I felt,
As I beneath their branches passed,
Their breath of life was on me shed,
A greeting chill as from the dead,
To one expected, come at last.