Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NIGHT AND DEATH, by ELIZABETH H. WHITTIER



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NIGHT AND DEATH, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: The storm-wind is howling
Last Line: Her glory above.
Subject(s): Death; Night; Dead, The; Bedtime


THE storm-wind is howling
Through old pines afar;
The drear night is falling
Without moon or star.

The roused sea is lashing
The bold shore behind,
And the moan of its ebbing
Keeps time with the wind.

On, on through the darkness,
A spectre, I pass
Where, like moaning of broken hearts,
Surges the grass!

I see her lone head-stone, --
'T is white as a shroud;
Like a pall hangs above it
The low drooping cloud.

Who speaks through the dark night
And lull of the wind?
'T is the sound of the pine-leaves
And sea-waves behind.

The dead girl is silent, --
I stand by her now;
And her pulse beats no quicker,
Nor crimsons her brow.

The small hand that trembled,
When last in my own,
Lies patient and folded,
And colder than stone.

Like the white blossoms falling
To-night in the gale,
So she in her beauty
Sank mournful and pale.

Yet I loved her! I utter
Such words by her grave,
As I would not have spoken
Her last breath to save.

Of her love the angels
In heaven might tell,
While mine would be whispered
With shudders in hell!

'T was well that the white ones
Who bore her to bliss
Shut out from her new life
The vision of this;

Else, sure as I stand here,
And speak of my love,
She would leave for my darkness
Her glory above.





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