THE night was dark and fearful, The blast swept wailing by; A watcher, pale and tearful, Looked forth with anxious eye: How wistfully she gazes -- No gleam of morn is there! And then her heart upraises Its agony of prayer. Within that dwelling lonely, Where want and darkness reign, Her precious child, her only, Lay moaning in his pain; And death alone can free him -- She feels that this must be: "But oh! for morn to see him Smile once again on me!" A hundred lights are glancing In yonder mansion fair, And merry feet are dancing -- They heed not morning there: Oh, young and lovely creatures, One lamp, from out your store, Would give that poor boy's features To her fond gaze once more! The morning sun is shining -- She heedeth not its ray; Beside her dead reclining, That pale, dead mother lay! A smile her lip was wreathing, A smile of hope and love, As though she still were breathing -- "There's light for us above!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FREEDOM AND LOVE by THOMAS CAMPBELL COUNTING THE BEATS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ACCIDENT IN ART by RICHARD HOVEY NOVEMBER MORNING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TREES ON THE CALAIS ROAD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN BALLADE OF THE IDEAL WAITER by BERTON BRALEY AN ELEGY ON MR. WILLIAM HOPTON by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |