Classic Poem

All night my thoughts in wild commotion tossed,
And sleep forsook the precincts of my brain;
The question in quick-changing guises crossed
My soul, with fear and suffering in its train.

The night was dark; nor stars nor moon did shine,
And loudening winds by fits laughed mockingly;
Ever before my sight the silvery line
Of some idea seemed in scorn to flee.

With unremitting might I strove to reach
The thought that held within its scope the truth;
But still I failed, like infants trying speech,
Or boys essaying tasks beyond their youth.

The waning night brought no increase of rest,
I clamored for the coming of the morn;
Surely with dawn the storm that shook my breast
Would calm its anger and allay its scorn.

The ruddy sunrise burned along the east;
I rose, and sadly watched the growth of light;
The day called men and nature to its feast,
But I remained imprisoned by the night.

Lo! sudden gleams within my darkened soul,
From sources that I knew not, fell and shone;
Could I but master the elusive whole,
And call my vanished peace once more my own!

Throughout the morn I struggled hard and well;
The adversary slowly yielded ground,
And from my soul removed his lessening spell—
I felt my pain had gained its utmost bound.

The sun seemed slow in climbing the steep sky,
But step by step attained the wonted height;
The day passed to its throne, and from on high
In broadening circles dropped and surged the light.

Then flashed on me the kernel of my thought,
And all my wearied powers fell into tune;
I saw the vision which I long had sought,
And from the distant towers rang out the noon!