Midnight

  From where I sit, I see the stars,

    And down the chilly floor

  The moon between the frozen bars

    Is glimmering dim and hoar.

  Without in many a peakèd mound

    The glinting snowdrifts lie;

  There is no voice or living sound;

    The embers slowly die.

  Yet some wild thing is in mine ear;

    I hold my breath and hark;

  Out of the depth I seem to hear

    A crying in the dark;

  No sound of man or wife or child,

    No sound of beast that groans,

  Or of the wind that whistles wild,

    Or of the tree that moans:

  I know not what it is I hear;

    I bend my head and hark:

  I cannot drive it from mine ear,

    That crying in the dark.

Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.Form: abab