I SLEPT across the front of the clock, Close to the long case-door; The hours were brought by their brazen knock To my ear as the slow nights wore. Thus did I, she being sick to death, That each hour as it belled Should wake me to rise, and learn by her breath Whether her strength still held. Yet though throughout life's midnights all I would have watched till spent For her dear sake, I missed the call Of the hour in which she went. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLEASURE MIXED WITH PAIN by THOMAS WYATT TO A WEALTHY MAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE DEFILED SANCTUARY by WILLIAM BLAKE LOVE'S CAUTION by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE OLD MAN DREAMS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ON THE ENGINE BY NIGHT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |