Where Thou art not no day holds light for me,
The brightest noontide turns to midnight deep;
There no bird sings, but awesome shadows creep,--
Persistent ghosts that hold my memory,
And walk where Joy and Hope once walked with thee,
And in thy place their lonesome vigil keep,--
Sad shades that haunt the inmost ways of sleep,
No kindly morning ever bids them flee.
Those tireless footsteps, will they never cease?
Like crownless queens they tread their ancient ways,--
Pale phantoms of old dreams and vanished days,--
And mock my poor endeavors after peace.
Too long this Arctic night, too keen its cold;
Come back, strong sun, and warm me as of old!