THEY hear the bell of midnight toll, And shiver in their flesh and soul; They lie on hard, cold wood or stone, Iron, and ache in every bone; They hate the night: they see no eyes Of loved ones in the starlit skies. They see the cold, dark water near; They dare not take long looks for fear They'll fall like those poor birds that see A snake's eyes staring at their tree. Some of them laugh, half-mad; and some All through the chilly night are dumb; Like poor, weak infants some converse, And cough like giants, deep and hoarse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NORTH-WEST PASSAGE: 3. IN PORT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON TO A CHILD OF THREE YEARS OLD by BERNARD BARTON ON A SMALL DOG by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN RURAL ECONOMY (1917) by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN STRATIS VIARUM by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH OH! THE MARRIAGE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS THE TRYST (1) by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE |