C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Northwest Passage
By Robert Louis Stevenson (18501894)
The sunless hours again begin;
O’er all without, in field and lane,
The haunted night returns again.
About the firelit hearth; and see
Our faces painted as we pass,
Like pictures, on the window-glass.
Let us arise and go like men,
And face with an undaunted tread
The long black passage up to bed.
O pleasant party round the fire!
The songs you sing, the tales you tell,
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well!
It stares through the window-pane;
It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
And it moves with the moving flame.
With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;
And all round the candle the crooked shadows come,
And go marching along up the stair.
The shadow of the child that goes to bed,—
All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,
With the black night overhead.
My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
And come from out the cold and gloom
Into my warm and cheerful room.
To keep the coming shadows out,
And close the happy door at last
On all the perils that we past.
She shall come in with tiptoe tread,
And see me lying warm and fast
And in the Land of Nod at last.