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