A Voice in The Night.

A Voice in The Night.
128.1

The day had been so fraught with troublous care,
My soul had been so cankered by the sting
Of malice’s sharp tooth, that suffering
And wounded sore, even the sunset fair
Seemed to my troubled eyes but as the glare
Of skies of burnished brass, and questioning
‘The love of God, or man, or anything,
I flung me down, too spent and bruised for prayer

When lo! upon the night-wind, soft and clear,
The brooding notes of some low lullaby
Were wafted to me, from a casement near-
A mother’s song to hush her infant’s cry-
Bearing to me that truth of priceless worth,
That love is still the sweetest thing on earth.”
-Louella C.Poole