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Midnight Rain

Edward S. Sorenson

                  Awake I lay,
And hearkened to the melancholy pour
    Of rain upon the fields, where tall trees sway,
And on the shingled roof, from midnight hour,
                  To break of day.

                  My thoughts went out,
And wandered through the wet night dark and drear,
    To a far-off brother, with a prayer devout,
His answering voice I fancied I could hear
                  When wild winds shout.

                  All yet is fair
With him who knows not that his home’s bereft
    Of one familiar step upon the stair,
That pitiless Death at midnight came and left
                  One vacant chair.

                  The sobbing rain
Beats o’er the grave where he sleeps peacefully,
    Free from all sorrow and all worldly pain;
While angels guard him till in Heaven we
                  Shall meet again.

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