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Neal, Alice Bradley: MIDNIGHT
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MIDNIGHT

I HAD been tossing through the restless night —
Sleep banish'd from my pillow —and my brain
Weary with sense of dull and stifling pain —
Yearning, and praying for the blessed light.
My lips moan'd thy dear name, beloved one;
Yet I had seen thee lying still and cold,
Thy form bound only by the shroud's pure fold,
For life with all its suffering was done.
Then agony of loneliness o'ercame
My widow'd heart —night would fit emblem seem
For the evanishing of that bright dream:
The heavens were dark —my life henceforth the same.
No hope —its pulse within my breast was dead.
No light —the clouds hung heavily o'erhead.
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