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This is from the POV of Brian de Bois-Gilbert from Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe.

The stars tremble above my head
But coldly, it seems to me
Making an reprimanding me for my folly.
They shine their icy lights
Upon the darkened grass
And the sight chills me.
But the clouds prepare their dark coverlet
And snuff out the lights
Quenched
And I think that I am colder than before.

Everyone has left me
But that is because of my own faults.
I have been as one dishonoured of my Order
For letting my foolish whims
-- That so clearly betrayed my oaths to the Temple --
Take a hold of me.
Rebecca was never with me
She despised me from the start, I fear,
I offered her my love,
And a place far away from here.
I told her she shall be a Queen!
But she refused,
Her hard pride blocking out my pleas.
Oh, what is pride, but the builder of walls
That serve nothing but to divide people from their kinsmen
Yes, I say kinsmen, for we are all just men
And I did not realise this until it was too late.
There is something, something about this place
That makes one realise the truths you were blinded to
In life.
I think I am dead.
I know I am dead,
By Wilfred of Ivanhoe's hand,
Unhorsed, eyes open and glazed
Like stars frosted over.

I do not know where I am.
I do not think that this is Heaven,
For Heaven is supposed to be a joyous place
Full of light
And song
And people.
But here, there is only me
And the bright stars
And the dark grass.
I do not think this is the other choice
For the only pain I feel is knowing I made so many mistakes,
But maybe that is torture enough.
Maybe this is Hell,
For it is cold
And I am all alone.
But it is strangely peaceful here,
To walk under a bower of deep blue satin
The midnight grass crunching under my feet
And the grey wool of the clouds passing overhead.

I think I may deserve Hell.
For my misguided eyes have witnessed
Many an act that would be called wrong.
Kidnapping, stealing, nameless others crimes that I am forced to look in the eyes
And through them, to me and myself.
Most all of them in the name of Templars
Who were supposedly doing it in the name of God!
I never saw before
What blasphemy was in this...
Maybe I did.
I think I did.
Part of me wonders why I joined
But the other half answers well, pouring myself out to the clear white stars.
I was alone.
I was angry.
So many excuses swirl through my head, trying to convince me that I didn't know,
But I did know.
I did know.
I knew what I was doing, what my supposed Brothers were doing
And I went along
Like a fool
Because I was angry and did not care about other men.
I did not care
Until now, when I am dead.
I do not think anyone will care about me.
I do not think I will be hailed as a hero.
Instead, I am Brian de Bois-Gilbert,
The villain of the story.