Poems of Sentiment and Imagination/The Post-Boy's Song

by Frances A. Fuller

THE POST-BOY'S SONG.

The night is dark, and the way is long,

And the clouds are flying fast;

The night-wind sings a dreary song,

And the trees creak in the blast:

The moon is down in the tossing sea,

And the stars shed not a ray;

The lightning flashes fearfully,

But I must on my way.

Full many a hundred time have I

Gone o'er it in the dark,

Till my faithful steeds can well descry

Each long familiar mark:

Withal, should peril come to-night,

God have us in his care!

For without help, and without light,

The boldest well beware.

Like a shuttle thrown by the hand of fate,

Forward and back I go;

Bearing a thread to the desolate

To darken their web of woe;

And a brighter thread to the glad of heart,

And a mingled one to all;

But the dark and the light I can not part,

Nor alter their hues at all.

Now on, my steeds! the lightning's flash

An instant gilds our way;

But steady! by that dreadful crash

The heavens seemed rent away.

Soho! here comes the blast anew,

And a pelting flood of rain;

Steady! a sea seems bursting through

A rift in some upper main.

'Tis a terrible night, a dreary hour,

But who will remember to pray

That the care of the storm-controlling power

May be over the post-boy's way?

The wayward wanderer from his home,

The sailor upon the sea,

Have prayers to bless them where they roam—

Who thinketh to pray for me?

But the scene is changed! up rides the moon

Like a ship upon the sea;

Now on, my steeds! this glorious noon

Of a night so dark shall be

A scene for us; toss high your heads

And cheerily speed away;

We shall startle the sleepers in their beds

Before the dawn of day.

Like a shuttle thrown by the hand of fate,

Forward and back I go;

Bearing a thread to the desolate
To darken their web of woe;
And a brighter thread to the glad of heart,
And a mingled one for all;
But the dark and the light I can not part,
Nor alter their hues at all.