Classic Poem

Last night in the mid-watch
When all was still and drear,
My name, I heard it called, —
Oh, Christ, how dread to hear.
Was it a dream? no sleep
Had kissed my lids that night;
Helpless I lay and powerless,
All trembling with affright.

I listened, yet no sound
Smote on my straining ear,
Save the wild wind whirling
The leaflets torn and sere.
And in the sudden pause,
As sped its coursers fleet,
Solemnly in the gloom around
I heard the night's pulse beat.

Doubt not between our world
And those where spirits dwell,
Shadowy links there be
Whereof tongue can not tell.
Heed not the haughty soul
Whose wisdom never bends,
At the still voice of Omens,
That God in mercy lends.

In the broad light of day,
When gloom broods o'er the deep,
His arm is still to shield us,
His love can never sleep.
His mercy walks abroad at noon,
And on the midnight air;
So thought I, and my troubled soul
Found rest again in prayer.