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Night after Night

NIGHT after night we dauntlessly embark

On slumber’s stream, in whose deep waves are drowned

Sorrow and care, and with all senses bound

Drift for a while beneath the sombre arc

Of that full circle made of light and dark
        
Called life, yet have no fear, and know refound

Lost consciousness shall be, even at the sound

Of the first warble of some early lark

Or touch of sunbeam. Oh, and why not then

Lie down to our last sleep, still trusting Him
        
Who guided us so oft through shadows dim,

Believing somewhere on our sense again

Some lark’s sweet note, some golden beam, shall break,

And with glad voices cry, “Awake! awake!”
Gertrude Bloede [1845-1905]