A Mourned Day


Over the midnight wave

A starry carpet is spread;

Starry flowers on the grave

Where a day lies dead.


Strange to me it seems

That the day has ever been:

Now it is gone with my dreams

To the land of Never-again.


Strange to me it seems

That another day can be:

That the sun again his beams

Should cast upon the sea.


Oh, many days will rise

From out the secret deep

But none like that which lies

In a never-ending sleep.


Beneath the midnight wave,

Within its fathomless bed,

The day to me you gave

Lies dead!


Weekly Times 10.3.61