Good Night! Which put the Candle out?
A jealous Zephyr — not a doubt –
Ah, friend, you little knew
How long at that celestial wick
The Angels — labored diligent –
Extinguished — now — for you!

It might — have been the Light House spark –
Some Sailor — rowing in the Dark –
Had importuned to see!
It might — have been the waning lamp
That lit the Drummer from the Camp
To purer Reveille!

If He dissolve — then –
there is nothing — more –
Eclipse — at Midnight –
It was dark — before –

Sunset — at Easter –
Blindness — on the Dawn –
Faint Star of Bethlehem –
Gone down!

Would but some God — inform Him –
Or it be too late!
Say — that the pulse just lisps –
The Chariots wait –

Say — that a little life — for His –
Is leaking — red –
His little Spaniel — tell Him!
Will He heed?

Tho’ I get home how late — how late –
So I get home – ’twill compensate –
Better will be the Ecstasy
That they have done expecting me –
When Night — descending — dumb — and dark –
They hear my unexpected knock –
Transporting must the moment be –
Brewed from decades of Agony!

To think just how the fire will burn –
Just how long-cheated eyes will turn –
To wonder what myself will say,
And what itself, will say to me –
Beguiles the Centuries of way!

He was weak, and I was strong -then-
So He let me lead him in
I was weak, and He was strong then
So I let him lead me. Home.

‘Twasn’t far -the door was near-
‘Twasn’t dark -for He went- too
‘Twasn’t loud, for He said nought
That was all I cared to know.

Day knocked -and we must part-
Neither -was strongest- now
He strove -and I strove- too
We didn’t do it -tho’!

You love me — you are sure –
I shall not fear mistake –
I shall not cheated wake –
Some grinning morn –
To find the Sunrise left –
And Orchards — unbereft –
And Dollie — gone!

I need not start — you’re sure –
That night will never be –
When frightened — home to Thee I run –
To find the windows dark –
And no more Dollie — mark –
Quite none?

Be sure you’re sure — you know –
I’ll bear it better now –
If you’ll just tell me so –
Than when — a little dull Balm grown –
Over this pain of mine –
You sting — again!

By Chivalries as tiny,
A Blossom, or a Book,
The seeds of smiles are planted –
Which blossom in the dark.