Which?

The wind was on the forest,      And silence on the wold;     And darkness on the waters,      And heaven was starry cold;     When Sleep, with mystic magic,      Bade me this thing behold:     This side, an iron woodland;      That side, an iron waste;     And heaven, a tower of iron,      Wherein the wan moon paced,     Still as a phantom woman,      Ice-eyed and icy-faced.     And through the haunted tower      Of silence and of night,     My Soul and I went only,      My Soul, whose face was white,     Whose one hand signed me listen,      One bore a taper-light.     For, lo! a voice behind me      Kept sighing in my ear     The dreams my flesh accepted,      My mind refused to hear -     Of one I loved and loved not,      Whose spirit now spake near.     And, lo! a voice before me      Kept calling constantly     The hopes my mind accepted,      My flesh refused to see -     Of one I loved and loved not,      Whose spirit spake to me.     This way the one would bid me;      This way the other saith: -     Sweet is the voice behind me      Of LIFE that followeth;     And sweet the voice before me      Of LIFE whose name is DEATH.