I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. — Og Mandino

Francis William Bourdillon (March 22, 1852 – January 13, 1921) was a British poet and translator.

 

 

 


ALL’S WELL
Francis Bourdillon

Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
The heavens are dark, and never a light
But the far-off flicker of Hell.
But the steed is in the stall,
Unsleeping;
And the warder on the wall,
Watch-keeping;
And the granary is stored,
And ready gun and sword.
In the name of the Lord,
All’s Well!

Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
The wind blows fierce, and the foam flies white,
And the waters moan and swell.
But the foes to haven keep,
Safe hiding;
And our ships are on the deep,
Sure riding;
And the gallant hearts on board
Keep ceaseless watch and ward.
In the name of the Lord,
All’s Well!

Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
There are widows weeping, and babes affright,
And a ceaseless burial bell.
But the hand that holds the gun
Still shakes not;
And the line drops one by one,
Yet breaks not.
Of the blood so nobly poured
There shall surely be reward.
In the name of the Lord,
All’s Well

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EURIDICE
Francis Bourdillon

He came to call me back from death
To the bright world above.
I hear him yet with trembling breath
Low calling, “O sweet love!
Come back! The earth is just as fair;
The flowers, the open skies are there;
Come back to life and love!”
 
Oh! all my heart went out to him,
And the sweet air above.
With happy tears my eyes were dim;
I called him, “O sweet love!
I come, for thou art all to me.
Go forth, and I will follow thee,
Right back to life and love!”
 
I followed through the cavern black;
I saw the blue above.
Some terror turned me to look back:
I heard him wail, “O love!
What hast thou done! What hast thou done!”
And then I saw no more the sun,
And lost were life and love. 

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NIGHT
Francis William Bourdillon

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies,
When love is done.