 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
xxviii
A WHITE NIGHT
White stand the houses out in the moonless midnight.
Here and there a window lighted yet stands plain,
Strange as a lifted eyelid in a face that slumbers.
The wakefulness behind it, is it grief or sin or pain?
Here and there a window lighted yet stands plain,
Strange as a lifted eyelid in a face that slumbers.
The wakefulness behind it, is it grief or sin or pain?
Cart on cart moves stealthily, feet on feet follow;
Wheels plod on reluctantly, creaking as they go;
A snatch of crazy song beats down a baby's crying;
But over all and each the silence falls like snow.
Wheels plod on reluctantly, creaking as they go;
A snatch of crazy song beats down a baby's crying;
But over all and each the silence falls like snow.
All sounds flower slowly from the heart of silence,
Not as in the daylight, shrieked at ears a-strain:
Harsh sounds come less harshly, and fade before they trouble
Ears that hear them come and go, and peace grow whole again.
Not as in the daylight, shrieked at ears a-strain:
Harsh sounds come less harshly, and fade before they trouble
Ears that hear them come and go, and peace grow whole again.
One by one the fixed lights grow paler and grow fewer;
One by one man quenches what he lit; the stars remain.
The gray sky whitens; with a shudder it is daylight;
Cocks are crowing sleep away, and day brings rain.
One by one man quenches what he lit; the stars remain.
The gray sky whitens; with a shudder it is daylight;
Cocks are crowing sleep away, and day brings rain.
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