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1850–1931

IN TENEBRIS

John Lawson Stoddard

All the lights have been extinguished In my closely-curtained room, Nothing now can be distinguished In the all-pervading gloom;

And through darkness, so alluring, I would float away to sleep, Like a boat that slips its mooring, And moves gently toward the deep.

How delightful this seclusion From the garish light of day,— All its turmoil and confusion Pushed, a little while, away!

Neither men nor things shall try me Till to-morrow brings its light; Let my cares go drifting by me! I'll not think of them to-night.

Social cant and empty phrases, Base returns for kindness shown, Envy's serpent-smile, and praises Which convey, for bread, a stone,—

What a joy to have rejected All such griefs, of evil born! What a boon to feel protected From their advent until morn!

Moon and stars, without, are gleaming Over snow-capped peaks sublime, But to-night I'll give to dreaming, Nor esteem it wasted time;

Nay, through darkness, so alluring, I will float away to sleep, Like a boat that slips its mooring, And moves gently toward the deep.

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IN TENEBRIS · John Lawson Stoddard · Poetry Cove