Thomas Starr King. Obiit March 4, 1864
Came the relief. “What, sentry, ho!
How passed the night through thy long waking?”
“Cold, cheerless, dark,-as may befit
The hour before the dawn is breaking.”
“No sight? no sound?” “No; nothing save
The plover from the marshes calling,
And in yon western sky, about
An hour ago, a star was falling.”
“A star? There's nothing strange in that.”
“No, nothing; but, above the thicket,
Somehow it seemed to me that God
Somewhere had just relieved a picket.”
Relieving Guard
Bret Harte
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Poem topics: dark, god, night, sky, king, long, cold, march, relief, strange, save, sound, dawn, star, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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