 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
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A CHILD'S NIGHT-THOUGHTS.
They put her to bed in the darkness,
And bade her be quiet and good;
But she sobbed in the silence, and trembled,
Though she tried to be brave as she could.
And bade her be quiet and good;
But she sobbed in the silence, and trembled,
Though she tried to be brave as she could.
For the Night was so real, so awful!
A mystery closing around,
Like the walls of a deep, deep dungeon,
That hid her from sight and sound.
A mystery closing around,
Like the walls of a deep, deep dungeon,
That hid her from sight and sound.
So stifling, so empty, so dreary—
That horror of loneliness black!
She fell asleep, moaning and fearing
That morning would never come back.
That horror of loneliness black!
She fell asleep, moaning and fearing
That morning would never come back.
A baby must bear its own sorrow,
Since none understands it aright;
But at last from her bosom was lifted
That terrible fear of the night.
Since none understands it aright;
But at last from her bosom was lifted
That terrible fear of the night.
One evening the hands that undressed her
Led her out of the door close by,
And a voice bade her look for a moment
Up into the wonderful sky,
Led her out of the door close by,
And a voice bade her look for a moment
Up into the wonderful sky,
Where the planets and constellations,
Deep-rooted in darkness, grew
Like blossoms from black earth blooming,
All sparkling with silvery dew.
Deep-rooted in darkness, grew
Like blossoms from black earth blooming,
All sparkling with silvery dew.
It seemed to bend down to meet her—
That luminous purple dome;
She was caught up into a glory,
Where her baby-heart was at home,
That luminous purple dome;
She was caught up into a glory,
Where her baby-heart was at home,
Like a child in its father's garden,
As glad as a child could be,
In the feeling of perfect protection
And limitless liberty.
As glad as a child could be,
In the feeling of perfect protection
And limitless liberty.
And this had been all around her,
While she shuddered alone in bed!
The beautiful, grand revelation,
With ecstasy sweet she read.
While she shuddered alone in bed!
The beautiful, grand revelation,
With ecstasy sweet she read.
And she sank into sound child-slumber,
All folded in splendors high,
All happy and soothed with blessings
Breathed out of the heart of the sky.
All folded in splendors high,
All happy and soothed with blessings
Breathed out of the heart of the sky.
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And in dreams her light, swift footsteps
Those infinite spaces trod;
A fearless little explorer
Of the paths that lead up to God.
Those infinite spaces trod;
A fearless little explorer
Of the paths that lead up to God.
The darkness now was no dungeon,
But a key into wide release;
And the Night was a vision of freedom—
A Presence of heavenly peace.
But a key into wide release;
And the Night was a vision of freedom—
A Presence of heavenly peace.
And I doubt not that in like manner
Might vanish, as with a breath,
The gloom and the lonely terror
Of the mystery we call Death.
Might vanish, as with a breath,
The gloom and the lonely terror
Of the mystery we call Death.
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |