Classic Poem

I

Tired out! ... and the wind and rain —
Dash of the sleet at the window pane,
And ever a flurry
Of snow as white
As a soul should be
In God's own sight ...
And I would that she were here to-night!

II

What harm if she, in the mystery
And moan of the darkness should come to me?
Should come as the bloom
From the blast and blight —
The rose's red,
And the rose's white, —
Should come as a flower to my breast to-night?

III

Have I only won from Life's storm and stress
Starless Night and Loneliness?
Have I trampled the Wrong
And lifted the Right,
To see the dreams
Of my soul take flight —
To long for a little of Love to-night?

IV

If she should come as the storm breaks wide,
Would the mad world strike her from my side?
Love claims his own
Of right and might,
From the depths of hell
To a heaven's height! ...
And he only asks for his own to-night!

V

I am weary of dreams ... to wake and miss
The lips God made for a lover's kiss!
To know that life
Is fast in flight —
That hell is Darkness,
And heaven Light,
And all that I ask is Love to-night!

VI

Tired out! ... in the Night's despair,
And Love shut out in the Darkness there!
And hell so deep,
And heaven so high,
And the curse of sleep
Where a dream's a sigh! —
The dream of a Love that will not die!

VII

Tired out! ... and the wind and rain,
And the wistful eyes at the window-pane.
Come in, O Love! —
The hearth's a-light,
And your soul is white
As the snow is white!
Come in from the world to your own to-night!