Classic Poem

In the gray silence ere the day-dawn broke
There came one softly knocking, and I woke.

“Who art thou, and what wilt thou, friend?” I cried.
“Wilt thou unbar to me?” a voice replied;

“If I be warder here, well shalt thou sleep;
No fears awaken those whose doors I keep.

“My name is Death.…” “Ah no!” I cried, “ah no!
I cannot let thee in; I pray thee, go!

“For I am pledged to many friends to-day—
I have no room for thee, if thou shouldst stay.”

I heard him turn, with soft receding tread:
“So be it then; yet guard thy door,” he said.

And then the sunrise leaped to sudden flame
And I threw wide the door, and through it came

A host of thronging feet, till I, oppressed
With care and turmoil, longed for night and rest.

For those I looked for came not; in their stead
Came some I did not ask, strange-eyed and dread—

Weariness, Sorrow, Strife, and Want and Pain.
“Now make us room,” they said, “for we remain.”

Then, in the evening shadows, at my door
I heard that gentle knocking sound once more

And knew the step of Death. The door stood wide,
And yet he entered not, but paused, and cried:

“Are those thy friends still with thee? Then I go …”
But swift I leaped and caught his hand: “Ah no!

“Lord, bid them leave, but stay thou with me still
And guard my door henceforward, if thou will!”

He entered, and a sudden peace was spread
Through all the house; and lo! those Shapes had fled.

“Sleep, now,” he whispered: “fear not evermore
Aught that can enter. Lo! I keep the door.”