Frederick George Scott
O little hands, long vanished in the night--
Sweet fairy hands that were my treasure here--
My heart is full of music from some sphere,
Where ye make melody for God's delight.
Though autumn clouds obscure the starry height,
And winds are noisy and the land is drear,
In this blank room I feel my lost love near,
And hear you playing--hands so small and white.
The shadowy organ sings its songs again,
The dead years turn to music at its voice,
And all the dreams come back my brain did store.
Once more, dear hands, ye soothe me in my pain,
Once more your music makes my heart rejoice--
God speed the day we clasp for evermore!
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (At Nightfall by Frederick George Scott )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- The Light of Your Smile, Jeffrey Gonell
- limericks section (more to be added) f.., lee fones
- Because of my dream, Alex Adeoye
- O CRUEL AGGRESSORS! YOU CAN NOT BEND OR .., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Puddles Of Life, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- WHAT DO WE HAVE TO LOSE MORE THAN WHAT W.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Rembrandt, Phil Soar
- Margrit Biever Mondavi…..Happy Birthday .., James B. Earley
- Symbols Unremembered, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Restoration, Nalini Chaturvedi