Classic Poem

In their forest camp at night,
A weary with their toil, the hunters slept,
And winds that thro' the piny branches crept
Seemed to whisper in their sweep:
“Sleep, drowsy dreamers, sleep;
Your watch-fires fright away the beasts of chase,
All harmless round your midnight camp they pace;
The breezes whisper and the running streams,
All, all is well; then peaceful be your dreams.”
In the soldiers' camp at night
The outlying pickets make their watchful round;
The sentry's rifle glitters in starlight;
Intent he listens for each warning sound,
Intent he paces by the shadowy wood,
Intent he gazes o'er the misty plain,
Where sleeps the army with its warlike train,
But hears no sound the silence to dispel,
Then give the cheerful countersign—“All's well!”
In sick room of the fever'd maid, at night
The nurse keeps vigil by the sleeper's bed;
All dark the place, save for the flickering light
By feeble, swinging watch-lamp shed;
The anxious watcher sees a rosy glow
Flush the sick maiden's cheek of snow;
Angel of sleep hath cast its healthful spell,
And so she grateful whispers—“All is well!”
In storm-tost sea at night,
The sea-boy climbs the mast,
And his gaze, from that dizzy, reeling height,
O'er the plunging sea is cast;
He sees no perilous reef or bar,
He sees the lighthouse' friendly star,
He hails the deck, glad news to tell,
“No danger—all is well!”
In the City Square at night
The watchman paces on his lonely beat,
He sees no conflagration-flame,
No robber on the street;
And as the great Cathedral bell
Tolls out the midnight's solemn time
He mingles with its measur'd chime
The cry that “All is well!”
By the angler's camp at night,
Sleep sheds its drowsy influence down;
There is no murmur in the foliage light
In the oak-tree's leafy crown;
Yet a faint whisper o'er the sleepers stirs—
Is it an angel's spell?—
Cast through the branches of the firs,
Assuring “All is well.”