Desolation

Gloomy night! how full thou art of darkness! Thou, my heart! art fuller yet of sorrow, Sorrow which I bear, but cannot utter! I have now no mother who will hear me, I have now no sister who will soothe me,— Yet I had a friend—but he is absent! Ere he comes, the night will be departed; Ere he wakes, the birds will sing their matins; Ere his kiss, the twilight hour will brighten: Go thy way, my friend! the day is dawning!