<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384707" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Watcher</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I think I hear the sound of horses' feet<br>Beating upon the graveled avenue.<br>Go to the window that looks on the street,<br>He would not let me die alone, I knew.'<br>Back to the couch the patient watcher passed,<br>And said: 'It is the wailing of the blast.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She turned upon her couch and, seeming, slept,<br>The long, dark lashes shadowing her cheek;<br>And on and on the weary moments crept,<br>When suddenly the watcher heard her speak:<br>'I think I hear the sound of horses' hoofs-'<br>And answered, ''Tis the rain upon the roofs.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Unbroken silence, quiet, deep, profound.<br>The restless sleeper turns: 'How dark, how late!<br>What is it that I hear-a trampling sound?<br>I think there is a horseman at the gate.'<br>The watcher turns away her eyes tear-blind:<br>'It is the shutter beating in the wind.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The dread hours passed; the patient clock ticked on;<br>The weary watcher moved not from her place.<br>The gray dim shadows of the early dawn<br>Caught sudden glory from the sleeper's face.<br>'He comes! my love! I knew he would!' she cried;<br>And smiling sweetly in her slumbers, died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=384707" data-title="The Watcher de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="I think I hear the sound of horses' feet Beating upon the graveled avenue. Go to the window that looks on the street, He would not let me die alone, I knew.' Back to the couch the patient watcher passed, And said: 'It is the wailing of the blast.'..."></div> </div> </div>

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