A Vision, by Edwin Emerson

by Edwin Emerson

 Last night within the confines of my room,
     Half-lit to shield my over-tired eyes,
I saw distinctly, to my great surprise,
The outlines of an ancient, lonely tomb;
Moss-covered, framed by weeds — so apt to assume
     Rank shapes — which hid in part its proper size,
     While adding to its venerable guise;
And pall-like clouds intensified the gloom.
Alert, I scanned what name and date were there:
     And saw mine own, carved on the crumbling stone;
          The date read just five hundred years ago.
I woke, and thought — This vision would declare
     What shall be in the future, when, alone,
          The owl speaks wisdom, and the night winds blow.

From Edwin Emerson. Poems. 1901. Denver, CO: The Carson-Harper Company.