Explore "I Sit up Here at Midnight" by Robert Louis Stevenson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I sit up here at midnight, / The wind is in the street, / The rain besieges the windows / Like the sound of many feet.
I see the street lamps flicker, / I see them wink and fail; / The streets are wet and empty, / It blows an easterly gale.
Some think of the fisher skipper / Beyond the Inchcape stone; / But I of the fisher woman / That lies at home alone.
She raises herself on her elbow / And watches the firelit floor; / Her eyes are bright with terror, / Her heart beats fast and sore.
Between the roar of the flurries, / When the tempest holds its breath, / She holds her breathing also --
It is all as still as death.
She can hear the cinders dropping, / The cat that purrs in its sleep --
The foolish fisher woman!
Her heart is on the deep.