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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


AT MIDNIGHT'S HOUR I RAISED MY HEAD by HENRY DAVID THOREAU

Poet Analysis

Last Line: The word was whispered through the ranks,
Subject(s): NIGHT; WIND;

At midnight's hour I raised my head,
The owls were seeking for their bread;
The foxes barked impatient still,
At their wan fate they bear so ill.--
I thought me of eternities delayed:
And of commands but half obeyed.--
The night wind rustled through the glade
As if a force of men there staid;
The word was whispered through the ranks
And every hero seized his lance;
The word was whispered through the ranks,



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