The Spike: or, Victoria College Review September 1921
Raven midnight brooding o'er the city,
As the spirit of God once brooded o'er the deep,
Shrouding tired souls, in sympathy and pity,
With its gentle mantle, sweet forgetful sleep.
Bright-eyed Day, from its white and azure setting
Bathing the town in its keen-searching light,
How many woes, alas! Thou art begetting!
How many weary hearts are crying for the night!
Oh may Death, my tired soul receiving,
Cast over me a dark forgetfulness,
May eternal Night, the glare of life relieving,
Bring me evermore, sweet Slumber's soft caress
R. W. C.