Flower Pieces and other poems By William Allingham: With two designs by Dante Gabriel Rossetti |
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BLACK NIGHT. |
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 | Flower Pieces and other poems |  |
132
BLACK NIGHT.
A wayfarer on the wold,
Black the air and the ground;
On he goes through the dark,
Over marsh and mound.
Like death-bell, his heart has toll'd
One groan, no other sound:
He has fall'n from a verge,—he lies . . . stark!
And a creeping wind on the wold
Whistles through pitch-black air
For Will o' the Wisp to hold
His flickering lantern there,
Where the moveless Face lies bare,
With sightless eyes a-stare.
But the wind is not so bold
As to touch the blood-wet hair.
Black the air and the ground;
On he goes through the dark,
Over marsh and mound.
Like death-bell, his heart has toll'd
One groan, no other sound:
He has fall'n from a verge,—he lies . . . stark!
And a creeping wind on the wold
Whistles through pitch-black air
For Will o' the Wisp to hold
His flickering lantern there,
Where the moveless Face lies bare,
With sightless eyes a-stare.
But the wind is not so bold
As to touch the blood-wet hair.
Merely a fireside fancy?—No,
A thing that happen'd, years ago,
On this very moor,
Nigh this very door.
Draw the window curtains close,
Blackest night is round the house;
The cat purrs loud, the crickets sing;
Shadowy sweet our tranquil ring.
The wind's in the chimney, and below
The whispering fire sheds dusky glow.
Hush!—a knock. Open and see.
Who's there? ‘A Wayfarer.’ Welcome is he!
A thing that happen'd, years ago,
On this very moor,
Nigh this very door.
Draw the window curtains close,
Blackest night is round the house;
The cat purrs loud, the crickets sing;
Shadowy sweet our tranquil ring.
The wind's in the chimney, and below
The whispering fire sheds dusky glow.
Hush!—a knock. Open and see.
Who's there? ‘A Wayfarer.’ Welcome is he!
| Flower Pieces and other poems | |