Explore "Advent" by Christina Georgina Rossetti on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
This Advent moon shines cold and clear, / These Advent nights are long; / Our lamps have burned year after year, / And still their flame is strong. / "Watchman, what of the night? " we cry, / Heart-sick with hope deferred: / "No speaking signs are in the sky," / Is still the watchman's word.
The Porter watches at the gate, / The servants watch within; / The watch is long betimes and late, / The prize is slow to win. / "Watchman, what of the night? " but still / His answer sounds the same: / "No daybreak tops the utmost hill, / Nor pale our lamps of flame."