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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354004" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Dying Hour</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">OH! watch me; watch me still <br>Thro' the long night's dreary hours, <br>Uphold by thy firm will <br>Worn Nature's sinking powers! <br>II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While yet thy face is there <br>(The loose locks round it flying), <br>So young, and fresh, and fair, <br>I feel not I am dying! <br>III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stoop down, and kiss my brow! <br>The shadows round me closing <br>Warn me that dark and low <br>I soon shall be reposing. <br>IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But while those pitying eyes <br>Are bending thus above me, <br>In vain the death-dews rise,-- <br>Thou dost regret and love me! <br>V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then watch me thro' the night, <br>Thro' my broken, fitful slumber; <br>By the pale lamp's sickly light <br>My dying moments number! <br>VI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy fond and patient smile <br>Shall soothe my painful waking; <br>Thy voice shall cheer me while <br>The slow grey dawn is breaking! <br>VII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The battle-slain, whose thirst <br>No kindly hand assuages, <br>Whose low faint farewells burst <br>Unheard, while combat rages,-- <br>VIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The exiled, near whose bed <br>Some vision'd form seems weeping, <br>Whose steps shall never tread <br>The land where he lies sleeping,-- <br>IX.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The drown'd, whose parting breath <br>Is caught by wild winds only,-- <br>Theirs is the bitter death, <br>Beloved, for they die lonely! <br>X.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But thus, tho' rack'd, to lie, <br>Thou near, tho' full of sadness, <br>Leaves still, e'en while I die, <br>A lingering gleam of gladness! <br>XI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I feel not half my pain <br>When to mine thy fond lip presses,-- <br>I warm to life again <br>Beneath thy soft caresses! <br>XII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once more, oh! yet once more <br>Fling, fling thy white arms round me, <br>As oft in days of yore <br>Their gentle clasp hath bound me; <br>XIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And hold me to that breast <br>Which heaves so full with sorrow-- <br>Who knows where I may rest <br>In the dark and blank to-morrow? <br>XIV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! weep not--it shall be <br>An after-thought to cheer thee, <br>That while mine eyes could see, <br>And while mine ears could hear thee-- <br>XV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy voice and smile were still <br>The spells on which I doated, <br>And thou, through good and ill, <br>To me and mine devoted! <br>XVI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And calmly by my tomb, <br>When the low bright day declineth, <br>And athwart the cypress gloom <br>The mellow sunset shineth,-- <br>XVII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou'lt sit and think of Him, <br>Who, of Heaven's immortal splendour, <br>Had a dream on earth, though dim, <br>In thy love so pure and tender,-- <br>XVIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who scarcely feels thy touch,-- <br>Whom thy voice can rouse no longer,-- <br>But whose love on earth was such, <br>That only death was stronger. <br>XIX.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, sit, but not in tears! <br>Thine eyes in faith uplifting, <br>From thy lot of changeful years, <br>To the Heaven where naught is shifting. <br>XX.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From this world, where all who love <br>Are doomed alike to sever, <br>To the glorious realms above, <br>Where they dwell in peace for ever! <br>XXI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then such hope shall beam <br>From the grave where I lie sleeping, <br>This bitter hour shall seem <br>Too vague and far for weeping-- <br>XXII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And grief--ah! hold me now! <br>My fluttering pulse is failing,-- <br>The death-dews chill my brow,-- <br>The morning light is paling! <br>XXIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I seek thy gaze in vain,-- <br>Earth reels and fades before me; <br>I die!--but feel no pain,-- <br>Thy sweet face shining o'er me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Caroline+Elizabeth+Sarah+Norton">Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354004" data-title="The Dying Hour de Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton" data-description="I.

OH! watch me; watch me still 
Thro' the long night's dreary hours, 
Uphold by thy firm will 
Worn Nature's sinking powers! 
II.

While yet thy face is there 
(The loose locks round it flying), 
So young, and fresh, and fair, 
I feel not I am d..."></div>
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