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The Spike or Victoria College Review October 1929



Darkness—and wind—and rain—
And desolation!
Or is it my soul
And not the night, that seems so desolate?
The wind moans through the trees,
Heavily, drearily, the rain is falling.
And all is dark—
And you are far away!
Ah, half the world divides us—
And the rain
Drenching the sodden earth.
The wind
Wails like an anguished soul.
And closer, closer,
The darkness presses on my heart.
I cannot see
Your smile—
Nor hear your dear voice calling.
Enfolds me like a shroud—
And all around—
Darkness—and wind—and rain—
And desolation!