Her Lonesomeness

When little Elizabeth whispers
Her morning-love to me,
Each word of the little lisper's,
As she clambers on my knee—
Hugs me and whispers, “Mommy,
Oh, I'm so glad it's day
And the night's all gone away!”
How it does thrill and awe me,—
“The night's all gone away!”

“Sometimes I wake, all listenin',”
She sighs, “and all's so still!—
The moon and the stars half-glistenin'
Over the window-sill:—
And I look where the gas's pale light
Is all turned down in the hall—
And you ain't here at all!—
And oh, how I wish it was daylight!
—And you ain't here at all!

“And oh,” she goes eerily whining
And laughing, too, as she speaks,
“If only the sun kept shining
For weeks and weeks and weeks!—
For the world's so dark, without you,
And the moon's turned down so low—
'Way in the night, you know,—
And I get so lonesome about you!—
'Way in the night, you know!”
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