POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2638, 21 September 1882, Page 4

POETRY.

HAP. « Hark ! ” She cat upright in her bed, The gold hair from her head Crisping, coiling, wandering low O’er hsr besom cold as snow, For tbs heart in her breast stood still, And the blood in her veins ran chill, At the sound she heard in tbe dark. J* Hark ! ” It sounded like the soream Of a dreamer in his dream, Yet her eyea were wide and blue, Piercing midnight through an' through; Her parted lips were white With the terror of the night, Aid her arms spread stiff and stark. •Hark!" Wakened the mother mild j “ Why dost thou call, my child P The kindling morn is not yet red, The night ia silent, the winds are dead, To-morrow thou art a bride j Bleep, darling at my side.” Cat again she whispered, “Harkl" f Hark! ” . Hear the slow steps that bring, Stumbling, some dreadful thing 1 Hear the low, bushed voices calling! Hear the sullen water falling! Hear! oh, mother hear! They are setting down the bier j And the watch-dogs do net bark.” fi Hark 1” The sudden taper, burned, The key in her cold hand turned. Nothing in the lofty hall— Stillness, darkness over aIL “ There is not a creature here, Nor bearers, nor a bier, Her anything but the dark.” «Hark!” The wedding bells ring loud, The wedding revellers crowd. Waiting, watching, still she stood ! In her bower’s white solitude. Waiting in her bower For the bridegroom and the hour, Watching tho dial’s mark. “Hark!” The creeping shadow is there; He is coming up the stain, Coming Stumbling steps and slow Up tho stately staircase go. Low, hushed voioo*—Bring him hero, Softly I no w set down the bier, Dripping water's dropping fall On the flagstone* of the hall—ft is this she beard in the dark. “Hark!” The toiling bells ring low, And the mourners come and go, Whiter than the palest bride, Down she lieth at his side; For she looked out on the dead, And her lilfo was smitten and sped. She will evermore say, "Hark!” —Bosh Thbbt Oookb,