Poetry Archives

Surely I must have ailed
  On that dark night,
Or my childish courage failed
  Because there was no light;
Or terror must have come
  With his chill wing,
And made my angel dumb,
  Or found him slumbering.
Because I could not sleep
  Terror began to wake,
Close at my side to creep
  And sting me like a snake.
And I was afraid of death,
  But when I thought of pain—
O, language no word hath
  To recall that thought again!
Into my heart fear crawled
  And wreathed close around,
Mortal, convulsive, cold,
  And I lay bound.
Fear set before my eyes
  Unimaginable pain;
Approaching agonies
  Sprang nimbly into my brain.
Just as a thrilling wind
  Plucks every mournful wire,
So terror on my wild mind
  Fingered, with ice and fire.
O, not death I feared,
  But the anguish of the body;
My dizzying passions heard,
  Saw my own bosom bloody.
I thought of years of woe,
  Moments prolonged to years,
Heard my heart racing so,
  Redoubling all those fears.
Yet still I could not cry,
  Not a sound the stillness broke;
But the dark stirred, and my
  Negligent angel woke.