akingbehin daniel murphy

Rookie - 0 Points (18 march 1994 / lagos, nigeria)

When D Hours Of The Were Numbered - Poem by akingbehin daniel murphy

When the hours of Day are
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that
To a holy, calm delight;
Ere the evening lamps are
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;
Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;
He, the young and strong, who
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so
Spake with us on earth no more!
And with them the Being
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love
And is now a saint in heaven.
With a slow and noiseless
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.
And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saint-
Looking downward from the
Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.
Oh, though oft depressed and
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and

Comments about When D Hours Of The Were Numbered by akingbehin daniel murphy

  • (9/22/2011 3:44:00 AM)

    Yeah, yeah your words are powerful, moving along the line with great message, brother, you r good. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 19, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, September 18, 2012

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