Gray Heaven's Omen

With prescient eye, I spy the raven's flight,

His swift approach revealed within my sight.
This direful omen cometh now to me,
Death's certain mark displayed so openly.
Thou stand'st aloft in heaven's sullen gray,
Where ancient deeps in vast confusion lay.
Thou rend'st the bosom of the earthly sphere,
Doom'd hence to flee this woeful world, austere.
He stands and watcheth, silent phantom he,
His stirrings vex the air, devoid of glee.
For lo, his message beareth no delight,
But tidings dark: a soul's eternal night.
"Mark, mortal! Hear the truth I tell to thee:
That man I've seal'd, his spirit shall be free!"