Classic Poem

It had been a dreary day,
And night was coming down,
Within its dense and doleful mist,
To cover up the town.

A curtain was left undrawn;
Against the window-pane
Was pressed a careworn face, yet calm
As it in sleep had lain.

Now slowly it turns away,
A hand shuts out the gloom,
And deep content is in the eye,
That meets the lighted room.

" Ah, well! if safely housed,
What matter after all
Whether the day be dark or bright,
On which the night doth fall? "

The curtain of death shuts out
Life's passion and its pain,
And ever the evening light of Home
Shines sweetest after rain.