Light lingers — but the world is cold —
⁠The mists along the river slowdy creep,
⁠The dull trees, heavy with their weight of sleep,
Their leaves around them closely fold.

Fast falls the night, — the thickening shadows grow,
⁠And like a lifeless mass the great earth lies;
⁠No sound is here, except the night-bird's cries,
Nor motion, but the river's sluggish flow.

There the black city holds its silent place,
⁠The flitting lights have vanished one by one;
⁠The crowded thousands, with their day's work done,
Are slumbering somewhere in its dark embrace.

The light is gone, and darkness covers all, —
⁠The river-mists, the trees, the distant hills,
⁠The sobbing of the tiny mountain rills, —
Darkness has fallen o'er them as a pall.

The hours creep on, — lo! quivering light-beams pass
⁠From reed to reed along the river-shore;
⁠The birds are whisp'ring that the night is o'er,
The silent river gleams like tinted glass.

The west is glimmering, — greys and reds and blues,
⁠Growing to splendor like a thing divine;
⁠And in the east, over the mountain line,
Comes morning, floating on a thousand hues.

O English mother in the ruddy glow
Hugging your baby closer when outside
You see the silent, soft, and cruel snow
Falling again, and think what ills betide
Unshelter'd creatures, — your sad thoughts may go
Where War and Winter now two spectral wolves,
Hunt in the freezing vapor that involves
Those Asian peaks of ice and gulfs below.
Does this young soldier heed the snow that fills
His mouth and open eyes? or mind, in truth,
To-night, his mother's parting syllables?
His coat is red — but what of that? Keep ruth
For others; this is but an Afghan youth
Shot by the stranger on his native hills.

I read in Dante how that horned light,
Which hid Ulysses, waved itself and said:
"Following the sun, we set our vessel's head
To the great main; pass'd Seville on the right

"And Ceuta on the left; then southward sped.
At last in air, far off, dim rose a height.
We cheer'd; but from it rush'd a blast of might,
And struck — and o'er us the sea-waters spread."

I dropp'd the book, and of my child I thought
In his long black ship speeding night and day
O'er those same seas; dark Teneriffe rose, fraught

With omen; "Oh! were that mount pass'd," I say.
Then the door opens and this card is brought:
"Reach'd Cape Verde Islands, 'Lusitania.'"

In foolish error I from thee did stray,
Thinking the wide world I would wander o'er
In quest of love, — love that should have the power
To fill my heart with all-embracing sway.
In every street I sought love day by day;
Beseeching hands I held at every door,
Asking for but one sign of love, — no more;
But all with scoffing hatred turned away.
And still I wandered o'er the weary ground,
In search of love, — but love I never found.
Hopeless and sad, at last I homeward turned,
And thou didst meet me, — and thine eye's soft glance
My longing heart with rapture did entrance,
For there I saw the love for which I yearned.

Where are they hidden, all the vanished years?
⁠Ah, who can say?
Where is the laughter flown to, and the tears?
⁠Perished? Ah, nay!
Beauty and strength are born of sun and showers;
Shall these not surely spring again in flowers?

Yet let them sleep, nor seek herein to wed
⁠Effect to cause;
For nature's subtlest influences spread
⁠By viewless laws.
This only seek, that each New Year may bring
Out of new gifts a fairer, softer spring!