Far in the night, and yet no rest for him! The pillow next his own
The wife's sweet face in slumber pressed--yet he awake--alone!
alone!
In vain he courted sleep;--one thought would ever in his heart
arise,--
The harsh words that at noon had brought the teardrops to her eyes.
Slowly on lifted arm he raised and listened. All was still as death;
He touched her forehead as he gazed, and listened yet, with bated
breath:
Still silently, as though he prayed, his lips moved lightly as she
slept--
For God was with him, and he laid his face with hers and wept.
At Noon--and Midnight
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
Poem topics: breath, death, god, heart, night, sleep, wife, sweet, pillow, thought, slumber, alone, face, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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