Christopher Pearse Cranch

(1815-1892 / the USA)

Sonnet Xx. The Lover’s Sonnet. Midnight. - Poem by Christopher Pearse Cranch

I WAITED through the night, while summer blew
The breath of roses through my darkened room.
The whispering breeze just stirred the leafy gloom
Beyond the window. On the lawn the dew
Lay glistening in the starlight. No one knew
I did not sleep, but waited here my doom
Or victory. I saw the light-house loom
Across the bay. The silence grew and grew,
And hour by hour kept pace with my suspense.
Each rustling noise, each passing footstep seemed
The coming messenger I hoped yet feared.
At last a knock — a throb — a pause intense —
Your letter came. I read as if I dreamed.
Almost too great to bear my bliss appeared!

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Poem Submitted: Friday, September 24, 2010



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