In the Dark. (Rhymes of Rainy Days) by James Whitcomb Riley

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O in the depths of midnight / What fancies haunt the brain! / When even the sigh of the sleeper / Sounds like a sob of pain.

A sense of awe and of wonder / I may never well define, -- / For the thoughts that come in the shadows / Never come in the shine.

The old clock down in the parlor / Like a sleepless mourner grieves, / And the seconds drip in the silence / As the rain drips from the eaves.

And I think of the hands that signal / The hours there in the gloom, / And wonder what angel watchers / Wait in the darkened room.

And I think of the smiling faces / That used to watch and wait, / Till the click of the clock was answered / By the click of the opening gate. --

They are not there now in the evening -- / Morning or noon -- not there; / Yet I know that they keep their vigil, / And wait for me Somewhere.

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