Classic Poem

" Daughter, how the door is creaking,
In the dead of night it shakes! " —
Mother o' mine, the wind is shrieking,
Never mind the noise it makes.
On the window beats the rain.
Lie you still,
And I will
Read the evening prayers again.

Ye daughters of Jerusalem, give heed!
Hark to my friend's feet coming o'er the mead.
I hear his feet o'er the dark meadow tripping,
With nightly dew his locks are dripping.

" Daughter, some one's in the house!
To the stairs I hear him creeping. " —
Mother, it's the little mouse
Nibbling, or the cricket cheeping.
On the window beats the rain.
Lie you still,
And I will
Read the evening prayers again.

Ye daughters of Jerusalem, my friend
Comes from the orchard where the blue grapes bend,
From where the brown fig is to purple grown,
He comes, seeks, longs to be with me alone.

" Daughter, are there ghosts that haunt thee?
Soft feet in thy room I hear. " —
Mother, ghosts will never daunt me:
There will be an angel near.
On the window beats the rain.
Lie you still,
And I will
Read the evening prayers again.

O friend, beloved, loveliest and best,
My heart beats loud and louder in my breast;
All eyes now sleep, there shines no candle-ray:
Watchmen of Zion, ye will not betray.