Still bathed in its moonlight slumber, the little white house by the cedar
Stands silent against the red dawn;
And nothing I know of who sleeps there, to the travail of day yet unwakened,
Behind the blue curtains undrawn:
But I dream as we march down the roadway, ringing loud and white-rimed in the moonlight,
Of a little dark house on a hill
Wherein when the battle is over, to the rapture of day yet unwakened,
We shall slumber as dreamless and still.
Reveille
Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
(1)
Poem topics: dark, dream, red, rapture, blue, battle, silent, march, dawn, house, white, moonlight, Valentine's Day, slumber, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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