Two eyes followed me out of sleep and dream. I could not dream what seeing things could mean. I had deemed all an oblivion unabated, A sordid compost of all I loved or hated. Such was all, and all I knew of what Dreaming sleep to wakeful reason brought. But now these howling eyes unsocketed by pain, That did not bear any look of ease or rest, Stared green indelible thoughts into my brain And came, unofficed officers, to my arrest. The sheets I turned in, on me had turned, As if in skins and grave-shrouds I had been wound-- My blinded body moved unmoored beyond my sight And turned to return to dream in interrupted night.