IN TENEBRIS

By John Lawson Stoddard

All the lights have been extinguished

In my closely-curtained room,

Nothing now can be distinguished

In the all-pervading gloom;

And through darkness, so alluring,

I would float away to sleep,

Like a boat that slips its mooring,

And moves gently toward the deep.

How delightful this seclusion

From the garish light of day,—

All its turmoil and confusion

Pushed, a little while, away!

Neither men nor things shall try me

Till to-morrow brings its light;

Let my cares go drifting by me!

I'll not think of them to-night.

Social cant and empty phrases,

Base returns for kindness shown,

Envy's serpent-smile, and praises

Which convey, for bread, a stone,—

What a joy to have rejected

All such griefs, of evil born!

What a boon to feel protected

From their advent until morn!

Moon and stars, without, are gleaming

Over snow-capped peaks sublime,

But to-night I'll give to dreaming,

Nor esteem it wasted time;

Nay, through darkness, so alluring,

I will float away to sleep,

Like a boat that slips its mooring,

And moves gently toward the deep.