The Shield of Weeping Ghosts

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, 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 chilled into a selfish prayer for light…

— Lord Byron (I788-I824)