926058In the Dark — illustrations by Howard PyleWilliam Dean Howells
IN THE DARK
OW often, when I wake from sleep at night, I search my consciousness to find the ill That has lurked formlessly within it, still
Haunting me with a shadowy affright;
And try to seize it and to know aright Its vague proportions, and my frantic will Runs this way and runs that way, with a thrill
Of horror, to all things that ban or blight!
Then, when I find all well, it is as though The moment were some reef where I had crept From the wide waste of danger and of death, And for a little I might draw my breath Before the flood came up again, and swept
Over it, and gulfed me in its deeps below.
