 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
340
I HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT.
I heard a cry in the night,
And swift I stole from my bed,
To find her, my heart's delight,
Once more in the lonesome night,
As before they called her dead.
And swift I stole from my bed,
To find her, my heart's delight,
Once more in the lonesome night,
As before they called her dead.
I pulled the curtains away,
I bent my lips to her cheek:
She had fled from the glare of day,
Afar on her lonesome way;
Night came, and I heard her speak.
I bent my lips to her cheek:
She had fled from the glare of day,
Afar on her lonesome way;
Night came, and I heard her speak.
Again I harked to the call
Of the one little voice so dear;
No matter what might befall,
I had found her, my darling, my all,
And I held her warm and near.
Of the one little voice so dear;
No matter what might befall,
I had found her, my darling, my all,
And I held her warm and near.
I laid me down by her side:
I cooed like a mother dove.
Ah, was it her lips that replied,
Or only the wind that sighed,
And not my dainty, my love?
I cooed like a mother dove.
Ah, was it her lips that replied,
Or only the wind that sighed,
And not my dainty, my love?
341
For cruel the morning came,
And mocking the blue sky smiled,
And the sun arose like a flame,
And vainly I called her name,
And I wept in vain for my child.
And mocking the blue sky smiled,
And the sun arose like a flame,
And vainly I called her name,
And I wept in vain for my child.
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |