The Night Visitor Poem by Bernard Kennedy

Three times the knock it came to me
and opening up the door
I saw no person standing there
for help or succour plea.

I sat back down to lift the book
and Donne his Epicedes,
beside the embers I had sat,
three times again the sound.

My heart it stilled,
my mind it froze,
for no wind blew the cottage sky,
alone but lit by moon.

The sound again did slowly make,
was someone dead or gone?
for I with book and embers stood
afraid and now alone.

I moved and to the knock at once,
a soul upon my door?
For only wood could make that sound,
that I could hear again.

I slowly lifted up the latch,
and fearful opened up,
the door it let the ember glow
outside into the path.

I looked to see into the dark,
and there an Angel girl,
of long black hair,
and handsome form
did stand and beckon on.

Out into forest I was brought,
with hand and heart entwined.
We danced by pines,
and kissed by stars,
a garland she did make.

And oh! what night of reveries,
and oh! what night of care,
my youth returned again to make,
our love upon the green moss
alone lit by the moon.

And when awoke, I saw was gone,
the angel girl and joy,
I thought that I had dreamed
the scene beneath the single star.
But standing up I made my way
the cottage open door,
the fireside chair alone it kept
the poems for resting there.

And in the morning by the sun,
a light on pathway shone.
A garland made of pines and cones
lay there upon the step.

Let us not laugh at reveries
of love the heart can make,
the angel girl, she beckons
on to mossy carpet heart,
as lit by forest moon.