THOU stern reprover of the midnight hour,
When mortals slumber and the world retires;
Then shall the sleepless wretch confess thy power
Fiercely to kindle thy extinguish’d fires,
Bearing the piercing spear, the sharpen’d dart,
When pleasure’s forms no longer ward the blow,
Sending thine arrows thro’ the bleeding heart,
And bidding memory ev’ry joy forego.
Lost in one thought each pleasing vision lies,
Thy frowns terrific awe the conscious mind;
While angry lightnings rend the troubled skies;
Yet all these conflicts, for our good design’d,
Shall cleanse the soul, whilst thou with placid mien,
Shalt cheer the mourner with a smile serene.
(Elizabeth Bath)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, Mind Poems, Soul Poems, Smiling Poems, Lies & Deceit PoemsBased on Keywords: sharpen, conflicts, reprover