Explore "The White Cliffs" by Alice Duer Miller on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the depth of the night betwixt midnight and morning, In the darkness and silence forerunning the dawn, The throb of my heart was a drum beat of warning, My ears were a strain, and my breath was undrawn.
In the depth of the night, when the old house was sleeping, I lying alone in a desolate bed, Heard soft on the staircase a slow footstep creeping-- The ear of the living--the step of the dead.