Poetry Archives

Fairies whisper, every whisper,
  In the silence of the night,
And he catches the soft murmurs
  Floating in the starry light.

And they tell him; yes, they tell him,
  All in accents sweet and clear,
Of the beautiful Hereafter
  That is ever drawing near.

There are loved ones, waiting, waiting,
  For his footfall on the shore;
They will welcome his appearing—
  They will greet him o’er and o’er.
                                          SANSON.