Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By GertrudeBloede961 Night after Night
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On slumber’s stream, in whose deep waves are drowned
Sorrow and care, and with all senses bound
Drift for a while beneath the sombre arc
Of that full circle made of light and dark
Called life, yet have no fear, and know refound
Lost consciousness shall be, even at the sound
Of the first warble of some early lark
Or touch of sunbeam. Oh, and why not then
Lie down to our last sleep, still trusting Him
Who guided us so oft through shadows dim,
Believing somewhere on our sense again
Some lark’s sweet note, some golden beam, shall break,
And with glad voices cry, “Awake! awake!”