I. MIDNIGHT.

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"He hath made me to dwell in darkness as those that have been long dead."

ALL dark!—no light, no ray!
Sun, moon, and stars, all gone!
Dimness of anguish!—utter void!—
Crushed, and alone!
One waste of weary pain,
One dull, unmeaning ache,
A heart too weary even to throb,
Too bruised to break.
No longer anxious thoughts,
No longer hopes and fears,
No strife, no effort, no desire,
No tears.
Daylight and leaves and flowers,
Summer and song of bird!—
All vanished!—dreams forever gone,
Unseen, unheard!
Love, beauty, youth,—all gone!
The high, heroic vow,
The buoyant hope, the fond desire,—
All ashes now!
The words they speak to me
Far off and distant seem,
As voices we have known and loved
Speak in a dream.
They bid me to submit;
I do,—I cannot strive;
I do not question,—I endure,
Endure and live.
I do not struggle more,
Nor pray, for prayer is vain;
I but lie still the weary hour,
And bear my pain.
A guiding God, a Friend,
A Father's gracious cheer,
Once seemed my own; but now even faith
Lies buried here.
This darkened, deathly life
Is all remains of me,
And but one conscious wish,—
To cease to be!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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