Gentle Night The Wick Has Burned Poem by James McLain

Gentle night the wick has burned
loves crush was enough
should tomorrow rise before
the sun, I turned to ask.

Their faces all look east the wait
as west would claim today.

Such grief by he was brief
and borrowed though for some
those few have looked and turned away
in wait, they fear their turn.

I'm sad about the future as it came
to her to late
her life she lived like dreams of yesterday.

I have now confessed, confession was
to late to do her
any good, as her father kissed her cheek.