The Watcher.

The Watcher.The night was dark and fearful,The blast swept wailing by,A watcher, pale and tearful,Look’d forth with anxious eye;How wistfully she gazeth,No gleam of morn is there;Her eyes to heaven she raisethIn agony of prayer.Within that dwelling lonely,Where want and darkness reign,Her precious child, her only,Lay moaning in his pain;And death alone can free him,She felt that this must be,But oh, for morn to see himSmile once again on me.A hundred lights are glancingIn yonder mansion fair,And merry feet are dancing,They heed not morning there;Oh, young and joyous creatures,One lamp from out your storeWould give that young boy’s featuresTo his mother’s gaze once more.The morning sun is shining,She heedeth not its ray,Beside her dead reclining,The pale, dead mother lay.A smile her lips was wreathing,A smile of hope and love,As though she still were breathing,“There’s light for us above.”

The night was dark and fearful,The blast swept wailing by,A watcher, pale and tearful,Look’d forth with anxious eye;How wistfully she gazeth,No gleam of morn is there;Her eyes to heaven she raisethIn agony of prayer.Within that dwelling lonely,Where want and darkness reign,Her precious child, her only,Lay moaning in his pain;And death alone can free him,She felt that this must be,But oh, for morn to see himSmile once again on me.A hundred lights are glancingIn yonder mansion fair,And merry feet are dancing,They heed not morning there;Oh, young and joyous creatures,One lamp from out your storeWould give that young boy’s featuresTo his mother’s gaze once more.The morning sun is shining,She heedeth not its ray,Beside her dead reclining,The pale, dead mother lay.A smile her lips was wreathing,A smile of hope and love,As though she still were breathing,“There’s light for us above.”

The night was dark and fearful,The blast swept wailing by,A watcher, pale and tearful,Look’d forth with anxious eye;How wistfully she gazeth,No gleam of morn is there;Her eyes to heaven she raisethIn agony of prayer.Within that dwelling lonely,Where want and darkness reign,Her precious child, her only,Lay moaning in his pain;And death alone can free him,She felt that this must be,But oh, for morn to see himSmile once again on me.A hundred lights are glancingIn yonder mansion fair,And merry feet are dancing,They heed not morning there;Oh, young and joyous creatures,One lamp from out your storeWould give that young boy’s featuresTo his mother’s gaze once more.The morning sun is shining,She heedeth not its ray,Beside her dead reclining,The pale, dead mother lay.A smile her lips was wreathing,A smile of hope and love,As though she still were breathing,“There’s light for us above.”

The night was dark and fearful,The blast swept wailing by,A watcher, pale and tearful,Look’d forth with anxious eye;How wistfully she gazeth,No gleam of morn is there;Her eyes to heaven she raisethIn agony of prayer.

The night was dark and fearful,

The blast swept wailing by,

A watcher, pale and tearful,

Look’d forth with anxious eye;

How wistfully she gazeth,

No gleam of morn is there;

Her eyes to heaven she raiseth

In agony of prayer.

Within that dwelling lonely,Where want and darkness reign,Her precious child, her only,Lay moaning in his pain;And death alone can free him,She felt that this must be,But oh, for morn to see himSmile once again on me.

Within that dwelling lonely,

Where want and darkness reign,

Her precious child, her only,

Lay moaning in his pain;

And death alone can free him,

She felt that this must be,

But oh, for morn to see him

Smile once again on me.

A hundred lights are glancingIn yonder mansion fair,And merry feet are dancing,They heed not morning there;Oh, young and joyous creatures,One lamp from out your storeWould give that young boy’s featuresTo his mother’s gaze once more.

A hundred lights are glancing

In yonder mansion fair,

And merry feet are dancing,

They heed not morning there;

Oh, young and joyous creatures,

One lamp from out your store

Would give that young boy’s features

To his mother’s gaze once more.

The morning sun is shining,She heedeth not its ray,Beside her dead reclining,The pale, dead mother lay.A smile her lips was wreathing,A smile of hope and love,As though she still were breathing,“There’s light for us above.”

The morning sun is shining,

She heedeth not its ray,

Beside her dead reclining,

The pale, dead mother lay.

A smile her lips was wreathing,

A smile of hope and love,

As though she still were breathing,

“There’s light for us above.”


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