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Poems (Jackson)/The Village Lights

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4579673Poems — The Village LightsHelen Hunt Jackson

THE VILLAGE LIGHTS.
ONLY a little village street,
Lying along a mountain's side;
Only the silences which meet
When weary hands and weary feet
By night's sweet rest are satisfied;
Only the dark of summer nights;
Only the commonest of sights,
The glimmer of the village lights!

I know not, then, why it should bring
Into my eyes such sudden tears.
But to the mountain's sheltering
The little village seems to cling,
As child, all unaware of fears,
Unconscious that it is caressed,
In perfect peace and perfect rest
Asleep upon its mother's breast.

No stir, no sound! The shadows creep.
The old and young, in common trust,
Are lying down to wait, asleep,
While Life and Joy will come to keep
With Death and Pain what tryst they must.
O faith! for faith almost too great!
Come slow, O day of evil freight!
O village hearts, sleep well, sleep late!