Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CHIMES, by WALTER EDWARDS HOUGHTON JR.


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CHIMES, by                    
First Line: It was a silly night
Last Line: But I still live to mourn.
Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies


It was a silly night --
The night that you were born.
And what you are or may be
Is not for you to mourn.

I never told your mother
What fiends had walked the earth
The hour she gathered strength enough
To give you birth.

'Twas all she had and over.
Next day she went to death,
Contented with her labor
And thanks upon her breath.

And you -- had ills so many
'Twas little need for more.
I thought to perish with
My secret long before.

But now that death has chosen
That I should toll your peals,
You shall not go still asking
What laid you by the heels.

So strength, my son, and hear me
Before the bells may cease,
And then forget your curses
And go in peace.

Through all that day I waited
From dawn to eventide,
And watched, and prayed, and tended
At her bedside.

But when the dusk had fallen
Close and tight about,
With throbbing head and pulse
I stumbled out.

The day had been so silent,
'Twas odd the night should fall
And bring the north wind howling
His wildest call.

So fierce the storm had risen
I could not see what lay
Two steps beyond the terrace,
Nor further beat my way.

So there I stood and welcomed
The biting sting of snow,
And heard above the tempest
The island foghorn blow.

And then (stay, lad, a little;
It will be spoken soon),
And then, above the storm
I saw -- the crescent moon!

O God, I clenched my eye-lids
Like one struck quickly blind.
I prayed 'twas only a fancy
Culled from a raving mind.

Yet I had not the courage
To bare my eyes again.
I still might live to whisper
What tricks they play on men.

But hardly had I turned
To grope my way along,
When from the nearby hedge --
A thrush burst into song!

Now let the chimes be ended;
So, too, my tale is done.
For when I ran in madly
I found I had a son.

Yes, 'twas a silly night --
The night that you were born.
And what you were or may be
Let other people scorn,
But I still live to mourn.





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