Classic Poem

I wander homeward, many a mile,
Alone and in the noon of night;
The Moon accosts me with a smile—
I am so pale and white.

“Why are you here,” She asks me, “Why
Do you not slumber ere I wane?”
Alas—She does not know that I
Can never sleep again.

The houses stand a somber host,
No sound the dreaming night invades;
And like a mournful moonlit ghost
I steal among the shades.

There's not a soul that roams abroad—
The shadows crouch austere and stark,
The very trees are overawed
And huddle in the dark.

There's not a star but finds its lake—
Night pillows every restless head,
And I alone am left awake—
Oh God—that I were dead!