Poetry of Kansas

The Sleeping Village.

The village sleeps; the moonbeams fall,
Pale, still, and cold, on roof and wall,
    And flood the empty street.
How still! The dust lies all unstirred;
No sound of rolling wheels is heard,
    No tread of passing feet.
 
Where traffic hurried to and fro,
Only the night-winds come and go,
    Whirling the dead leaves by.
The cold lake laps its pebbled shore;
And round each closely bolted door
    The frost creeps silently.
 
The village sleeps___O blessed rest!
With hard hands folded on its breast,
    Lies overburdened Toil;
Grief smiles in dreams, its woe forgot;
Pale want forgets its dreary lot;
    The springs of Care uncoil.
 
The fevers that infest the day
Yield to the night, and sink away
    To pulse soft and even.
E'en Joy is still; Love nestles deep
In clasping arms, whose touch makes sleep
    A calm as sweet as heaven.
 
The night grows deeper; colder falls
The moonlight on the silent walls;
    Still creeps the stealthy frost;
And deeper grows the calm of rest
In throbbing brain and troubled breast
    By day so passion-tost.
 
O blessings priceless, Night and Sleep!
Did never close the eyes that weep;
    Did struggle never cease;
Did ne'er the balm of Rest come down
Upon the weary, toiling town___
    Then death were sole release.

__Ellen P. Allerton.

Walls of Corn and Other Poems
Ellen P. Allerton
(Hiawatha, KS: Harrington Printing Company. 1894)
Pages 169-170

 
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November 26, 2002 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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