Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AT MIDNIGHT'S HOUR I RAISED MY HEAD, by HENRY DAVID THOREAU


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AT MIDNIGHT'S HOUR I RAISED MY HEAD, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
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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