THE STRANGER CHILD
Now the night is dark,
Now the house is still;
Comes a little stranger child
Toiling up the hill.
Now the house is still;
Comes a little stranger child
Toiling up the hill.
Listens at the door,
Peers within the pane,
Reaches for the broken latch
Rusted with the rain.
Peers within the pane,
Reaches for the broken latch
Rusted with the rain.
Murmurs in the dark,
Sobs beneath his breath,
Whispers to the empty rooms,
Quiet, now, for death.
Sobs beneath his breath,
Whispers to the empty rooms,
Quiet, now, for death.
Wanders through the lane
Where the rosebush grew,
Tries to reach the cobwebbed sill
Drenched and dark with dew.
Where the rosebush grew,
Tries to reach the cobwebbed sill
Drenched and dark with dew.
Calls—and calls in vain!
For the man, alone,
Dies before a dying fire,
Hears no human tone
For the man, alone,
Dies before a dying fire,
Hears no human tone
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