Poems (Curwen)/A Vision of the Night

by Annie Isabel Curwen

A Vision of the Night.

I, sleeping, dreamt a dream so strange,
 A dream that haunts me yet,
Though months have rolled, its mem'ry stirs
 My soul with sad regret.
Would God, mine eyes had ne'er unclosed
 To earthly care and fret.

For in this vision of the night
 While slumbering I lay,
I saw the winds of heaven loosed,
 Power given them to slay;
And like destroying angels all
 Sped on their awful way.

The sea rose, lashed to fury by
 The violence of the blast,
And hurled the mighty waves on shore,
 While awful thunders crashed,
And from the lowering heavens tongues
 Of lightning leapt and flashed.

The earth quaked, and great chasms yawned
 Where solid ground had been,
Then suddenly thick darkness fell—
 'Twas felt, as well as seen—
Thick darkness which intensified
 The horrors of the scene.

The crash of thunders, and the roar
 The winds and waters made,
Appalled the stoutest hearts, and filled
 The souls of men with dread;
My children weeping round me clung
 Trembling and sore afraid.

The people wept, and wrung their hands
 Saying the end is nigh!
And some stood speechless with amaze
 Waiting the hour to die—
When lo! two mighty beasts appeared
 Outlined against the sky.

A lion, rampant, and a bear—
 Together fiercely strove,
And fascinated by the sight
 Of the strange scene above,
We stood in mingled awe and fear
 Afraid to speak or move.

Anon, the lightning's lurid glare
 Lit up the fearsome night,
Shewing faces drawn with mortal fear,
 And pallid with affright;
Then the dark heaven's opened and
 Revealed a strange sight.

Then did the weeping people cry
 "It is the day of doom!"
For one appeared whose radiant form
 Did the dark night illume;
And my soul trembled as I saw
 The bright form cleave the gloom.

Nearer it came, then I discerned—
 Through the misty, silver haze
Shrouding the vision—One who filled
 My soul with glad amaze,
For I beheld with holy joy
 The blessed Saviour's face.

And then, strange mystery! my soul
 Forgot her awful fear!
Forgot her agonising dread
 In knowing Christ was near;
And in a tumult of delight
 Cried out, "The Lord is here!"

through the 'wildering darkness sped
 With eager flying feet—
And o'er the yawning chasms leapt
 In haste the Lord to greet;
And in an ecstasy of joy
 Fell weeping at His feet.

And woke, to find my pillow wet
 With those glad joyous tears;
Awoke to all life's care and fret,
 And the burden of the years;
Awoke to all the weary round
 Of daily hopes and fears.

Awoke to all the bitterness
 A waking moment brings;
Awoke to all the sordidness
 Of life and mundane things.
Would I had died when I beheld
 Thy face, O King of Kings!
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My soul needs no interpreter
 To make the vision clear.
When the stars shall fall, and the heavens melt,
 And the Lord shall re-appear.
Faith will be "lost in sight," and then
 "Love will cast out all fear."