How often on my feet of scorn <br />I've trudged across the early morn <br />And begged the sun hold back the day <br />For sluggish hands that would delay <br />To grasp the torch of duty's call <br />And wake the house and spoil it all. <br />Oh Night! whose trains my feet have sped <br />O'er distant lands where none have tread <br />And through the rapids of my thought <br />Have plunged me in almost to naught, <br />Then brought my back to quiver here <br />In shelter of an unknown fear, <br />Then filled my world with glistening gold- <br />Those flickering scenes for words untold. <br />Oh Night! Whose fingers slack the grasp <br />On one who is unwilling cast <br />Into a day of drudge to steep, <br />Until you welcome back your sheep.<br /><br />Adeline Foster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/o-night-2/
