Home ⇒ 📌Annie Louisa Walker ⇒ The Night Cometh
The Night Cometh
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! ‘mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,
Night, when man’s work is done.
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,
Night, when man works no more.
Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,
Night, when man’s work is o’er.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- The Night Cometh Cometh the night. The wind falls low, The trees swing slowly to and fro: Around the church the headstones grey Cluster, like children strayed away But found again, and folded so. No chiding look doth she bestow: If she is glad, they cannot know; If ill or well they spend their day, Cometh the night. […]...
- Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture? Whence cometh such tender rapture? Those curls they are not the first ones I’ve smoothened, and I’ve already Known lips that were darker than yours. The stars have risen and faded, Whence cometh such tender rapture? And eyes have risen and faded In face of these eyes of mine I’d never yet hearkened unto Such […]...
- Night (O you whose countenance) Night. O you whose countenance, dissolved In deepness, hovers above my face. You who are the heaviest counterweight To my astounding contemplation. Night, that trembles as reflected in my eyes, But in itself strong; Inexhaustible creation, dominant, Enduring beyond the earth’s endurance; Night, full of newly created stars that leave Trails of fire streaming from […]...
- Love and Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams giv’n o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot; And that, as fast as it is got, […]...
- All My Past Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams given o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. What ever is to come is not, How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot, And that as fast as it is got, Phyllis, […]...
- Easter Bring flowers to strew His way, Yea, sing, make holiday; Bid young lambs leap, And earth laugh after sleep. For now He cometh forth Winter flies to the north, Folds wings and cries Amid the bergs and ice. Yea, Death, great Death is dead, And Life reigns in his stead; Cometh the Athlete New from […]...
- New York at Night A near horizon whose sharp jags Cut brutally into a sky Of leaden heaviness, and crags Of houses lift their masonry Ugly and foul, and chimneys lie And snort, outlined against the gray Of lowhung cloud. I hear the sigh The goaded city gives, not day Nor night can ease her heart, her anguished labours […]...
- That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73) That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see’st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by […]...
- Sonnets viii THAT time of year thou may’st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang, In me thou see’st the twilight of such day As after Sunset fadeth in the West, Which by and by […]...
- Arise Why sit ye idly dreaming all the day, While the golden, precious hours flit away? See you not the day is waning, waning fast? That the morn’s already vanished in the past? When the glowing noon approaches, we will rest Who have worked through all the morning; but at best, If you work with zeal […]...
- Sonnet LXXIII That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by […]...
- Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold That time of year thou mayst in me behold, When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by […]...
- The Night is Darkening Around Me The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow ; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow ; The storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below […]...
- Sonnet LXVI: The Night-Flood Rakes The night-flood rakes upon the stony shore; Along the rugged cliffs and chalky caves Mourns the hoarse Ocean, seeming to deplore All that are buried in his restless waves- Mined by corrosive tides, the hollow rock Falls prone, and rushing from its turfy height, Shakes the broad beach with long-resounding shock, Loud thundering on the […]...
- Night (This night, agitated by the growing storm) This night, agitated by the growing storm, How it has suddenly expanded its dimensions, That ordinarily would have gone unnoticed, Like a cloth folded, and hidden in the folds of time. Where the stars give resistance it does not stop there, Neither does it begin within the forest’s depths, Nor show upon the surface of […]...
- Recompense I saw two sowers in Life’s field at morn, To whom came one in angel guise and said, “Is it for labour that a man is born? Lo: I am Ease. Come ye and eat my bread!” Then gladly one forsook his task undone And with the Tempter went his slothful way, The other toiled […]...
- Good-Night Then the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth; and see Our faces painted as we pass, Like pictures, on the window glass. Must we to bed indeed? Well then, […]...
- Against Idleness and Mischief How doth the little busy Bee Improve each shining Hour, And gather Honey all the day From every opening Flower! How skilfully she builds her Cell! How neat she spreads the Wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet Food she makes. In Works of Labour or of Skill I would be […]...
- The night wind Have you ever heard the wind go “Yooooo”? ‘T is a pitiful sound to hear! It seems to chill you through and through With a strange and speechless fear. ‘T is the voice of the night that broods outside When folk should be asleep, And many and many’s the time I’ve cried To the darkness […]...
- THE FIRST WALPURGIS-NIGHT A DRUID. SWEET smiles the May! The forest gay From frost and ice is freed; No snow is found, Glad songs resound Across the verdant mead. Upon the height The snow lies light, Yet thither now we go, There to extol our Father’s name, Whom we for ages know. Amid the smoke shall gleam the […]...
- The Night Most Holy Night, that still dost keep The keys of all the doors of sleep, To me when my tired eyelids close Give thou repose. And let the far lament of them That chaunt the dead day’s requiem Make in my ears, who wakeful lie, Soft lullaby. Let them that guard the hornаed Moon By […]...
- Night Is On The Downland Night is on the downland, on the lonely moorland, On the hills where the wind goes over sheep-bitten turf, Where the bent grass beats upon the unplowed poorland And the pine-woods roar like the surf. Here the Roman lived on the wind-barren lonely, Dark now and haunted by the moorland fowl; None comes here now […]...
- In Three Days I. So, I shall see her in three days And just one night, but nights are short, Then two long hours, and that is morn. See how I come, unchanged, unworn! Feel, where my life broke off from thine, How fresh the splinters keep and fine, – Only a touch and we combine! II. Too […]...
- 374. Song-O can ye Labour Lea? Chorus-O can ye labour lea, young man, O can ye labour lea? It fee nor bountith shall us twine Gin ye can labour lea. I FEE’D a man at Michaelmas, Wi’ airle pennies three; But a’ the faut I had to him, He could na labour lea, O can ye labour lea, &c. O clappin’s […]...
- HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR Only a little more I have to write: Then I’ll give o’er, And bid the world good-night. ‘Tis but a flying minute, That I must stay, Or linger in it: And then I must away. O Time, that cut’st down all, And scarce leav’st here Memorial Of any men that were; How many lie forgot […]...
- Night Journey Now as the train bears west, Its rhythm rocks the earth, And from my Pullman berth I stare into the night While others take their rest. Bridges of iron lace, A suddenness of trees, A lap of mountain mist All cross my line of sight, Then a bleak wasted place, And a lake below my […]...
- Father Death Blues (Don't Grow Old, Part V) Hey Father Death, I’m flying home Hey poor man, you’re all alone Hey old daddy, I know where I’m going Father Death, Don’t cry any more Mama’s there, underneath the floor Brother Death, please mind the store Old Aunty Death Don’t hide your bones Old Uncle Death I hear your groans O Sister Death how […]...
- A Sane Revolution If you make a revolution, make it for fun, Don’t make it in ghastly seriousness, Don’t do it in deadly earnest, Do it for fun. Don’t do it because you hate people, Do it just to spit in their eye. Don’t do it for the money, Do it and be damned to the money. Don’t […]...
- By Night when Others Soundly Slept . By night when others soundly slept And hath at once both ease and Rest, My waking eyes were open kept And so to lie I found it best. . I sought him whom my Soul did Love, With tears I sought him earnestly. He bow’d his ear down from Above. In vain I did […]...
- A Watch In The Night Watchman, what of the night? – Storm and thunder and rain, Lights that waver and wane, Leaving the watchfires unlit. Only the balefires are bright, And the flash of the lamps now and then From a palace where spoilers sit, Trampling the children of men. Prophet, what of the night? – I stand by the […]...
- Next Time Next time what I’d do is look at The earth before saying anything. I’d stop Just before going into a house And be an emperor for a minute And listen better to the wind or to the air being still. When anyone talked to me, whether Blame or praise or just passing time, I’d watch […]...
- NIGHT SONG WHEN on thy pillow lying, Half listen, I implore, And at my lute’s soft sighing, Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? For at my lute’s soft sighing The stars their blessings pour On feelings never-dying; Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? Those feelings never-dying My spirit aid to soar From earthly conflicts trying; Sleep on! […]...
- The singing in god's acre Out yonder in the moonlight, wherein God’s Acre lies, Go angels walking to and fro, singing their lullabies. Their radiant wings are folded, and their eyes are bended low, As they sing among the beds whereon the flowers delight to grow, “Sleep, oh, sleep! The Shepherd guardeth His sheep. Fast speedeth the night away, Soon […]...
- Variant Form Of The Preceding Poem COME to me, all ye that labour; I will give your spirits rest; Here apart in starry quiet I will give you rest. Come to me, ye heavy laden, sin defiled and care opprest, In your father’s quiet mansions, soon to prove a welcome guest. But an hour you bear your trial, sin and suffer, […]...
- In the night In the night Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys, And the peaks looked toward God alone. “O Master that movest the wind with a finger, Humble, idle, futile peaks are we. Grant that we may run swiftly across the world To huddle in worship at Thy feet.” In the morning A noise of men at […]...
- Last Night As I Was Sleeping Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That a spring was breaking Out in my heart. I said: Along which secret aqueduct, Oh water, are you coming to me, Water of a new life That I have never drunk? Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That I had a beehive […]...
- Work Let me but do my work from day to day, In field or forest, at the desk or loom, In roaring market-place or tranquil room; Let me but find it in my heart to say, When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, “This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; “Of all who live, I […]...
- The Christmas Night Wrapped was the world in slumber deep, By seaward valley and cedarn steep, And bright and blest were the dreams of its sleep; All the hours of that wonderful night-tide through The stars outblossomed in fields of blue, A heavenly chaplet, to diadem The King in the manger of Bethlehem. Out on the hills the […]...
- The Skyscraper Loves Night ONE by one lights of a skyscraper fling their checkering cross work on the velvet gown of night. I believe the skyscraper loves night as a woman and brings her playthings she asks for, brings her a velvet gown, And loves the white of her shoulders hidden under the dark feel of it all. The […]...
- As One Who Having Wandered All Night Long AS one who having wandered all night long In a perplexed forest, comes at length In the first hours, about the matin song, And when the sun uprises in his strength, To the fringed margin of the wood, and sees, Gazing afar before him, many a mile Of falling country, many fields and trees, And […]...
« Drylands