Gone are the tints of gold and red
One star comes out in the west,
I hear the twitter of mother birds,
Hushing their young to rest.
A night-moth flutters against the pane,
And a bat flits noiselessly by.
I see a spark where a glowworm shines,
Where the deeper shadows lie.
Into the depths of the arch above,
I gaze with tear filled eyes;
And wonder if there is a little chink
In the gates of Paradise?
Just a little rift where my voice will reach,
When I’m lonely and call for you,
Surely the cry from an aching heart
Will pierce through the arch of blue.
Surely you know though you answer not,
And no message comes to me,
And I often fancy your presence near
Though your form I cannot see.
The shadows deepen, I sit alone,
And watch and wait in vain;
The love that gilded the passing years,
Will never come back again.
- Beth
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