Explore "In the Dark" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.