Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
471. The Lover
By Richard Henry Stoddard
IT is dark and lonesome here,
  Beneath the windy eaves:—
The cold, cold ground my bed,
  My coverlet dead leaves,
My only bedfellow        5
  The rain that wets my sleeves!
If it be day, or night,
  I know not, cannot say,
For I am like a child
  Who has lost his troubled way,        10
Till I see the white of the hoar-frost—
  Then I know it is day!
I touch the silent strings,
  The broken lute complains;
The sweets of love are gone,        15
  The bitterness remains,
Like the memory of summer
  In the time of the long rains!
A few more days and nights,
  My tears will cease to flow;        20
For I hear a voice within,
  Which tells me I shall go,
Before the morning hoar-frost
  Becomes the night of snow!


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