Analysis of The Night

Ada Cambridge 1844 (St Germans, Norfolk) – 1926 (Melbourne)



II
Watchman, what of the night?
See you a streak of light?
Whither, O Captain of the quest,
The course we steer for Port of Rest?

How shall he answer - he
Who never put to sea?
Within his tabernacle wall
He cannot even hear us call.

Behind the jealous door
That he must pass no more,
And whence he scarcely dares to look,
He keeps his eyes upon his book.
The little candles, lit
Where the disciples sit,
Light their small refuge round about,
But show no gleam to those without -

Spirits that cannot dwell
In such an airless cell,
Sniffing the sea-winds from afar,
Glimpsing the light of moon and star.

We must fare forth, unsped,
From homely board and bed;
We must set sail for port unknown,
On an uncharted course, alone.

Push off. We have to go,
Whether we choose or no.
The Call, though faint and far away,
Has reached us, and we must obey.
.       .        .       .      .

O but the night is dark
Beyond that only ark!
The salt sea-winds blow keen and cold
Outside the shelter of the fold!
Boom of the deep-sea swell,
Solemn as funeral bell -
Silence transcending sound, to make
High courage falter and heart quake . . . . .

What will the voyage cost?
We are already lost
Who turn from land and love, to face
This blank immensity of space.

Push out. We have to go,
Whether we fear or no.
And why stand shivering and appalled?
We go because the Voice has called.

Noah's inspired dove
Took wing to find her love.
The sea is His - safe as the land
Within the hollow of His hand.

Here are the breakers - pull
Before the boat is full!
'Ware the sharp reefs that line the shore!
Row for the open evermore!
.        .        .         .        .

O but the night is dark!
Never the faintest spark
Where surf and shore and cities were!
And not a whisper in the air.

The open - heart of grace,
It is a lonely place!
No light on any onward track!
Too far - too late - for turning back!

Where is that little ark -
Those candles in the dark -
The Rock of Ages cleft for me -
The Cross uprising in the sea -

Whereto the drowning grope
With yearning faith and hope,
And cling as to their mother's breast,
And find safe shelter and sweet rest?

Gone, gone - for ever gone!
And still we must press on.
Steady, true soul, too brave to fret!
Press on - we are not drowning yet.

The night is soft and still
That was so wild and chill;
The bosom of the mighty deep
Breathes like a tired child asleep.

So peaceful, so profound,
The silence spread around!
The very breakers of the shore
Moan to the listening ear no more.

Night - but the stars are out.
Darkness of dread and doubt,
The way so lonely and so rough,
Have cleared a little, but enough.

We know not where we are-
Light cannot reach so far,
But shows us we have lost and gained
As the compelling Voice ordained.

Gone, gone beyond recall,
Candle and prisoning wall,
Last echo of the hue and cry,
Last glint of an accusing eye.

Too late for looking back
Over the darkening track.
How should the life-taught soul return
That cannot unlive or unlearn?

Changed, changed, for ever changed,
Since hitherward we ranged,
To vision in a space so vast,
All the perspectives of the past.

How infinitely small
The once so broad and tall -
The aims, the pursuit and the strife
Shut in the sheltered grooves of life!

Those terrifying laws,
The wrangles and the wars
Of church with church and state with state -
The things men love, the things men hate -

Money and gauds and fame,
And neighbours' scorn and blame -
The passion of desire and haste
To gather, to possess, to waste . . . . . .

How infinitely high,
Broad as the sea and sky,
The loyalty of man to man,
Once almost missing from the plan -

The elemental law
That codes and creeds ignore,
Of duty to the trust we hold
For heirs unborn and years untold . . . . . .
.        .         .        .          .

Night - and the drifting soul
Still without path or goal.
Yet was the voyage worth the cost.
We are not drowned. We are not lost.
'T'is I. Be not afraid.
Moonlight and stars may fade.
One walks the ocean and the night.
We have no further need of light.

What matters where we go?


Scheme Text too long
Poetic Form
Metre 1 101101 110111 10110101 01111111 111101 110111 0111001 11010111 010101 111111 01110111 11110111 010101 100101 11110101 11111101 101101 011101 10011101 1011101 11111 110101 11111101 11010101 111111 101111 01110101 11101101 1 110111 011101 01111101 11010101 110111 1011001 10010111 11010011 110101 110101 11110111 11111 111111 101111 011100001 11010111 100101 111101 01111101 01010111 110101 010111 10111101 1101010 1 110111 100101 11010100 01010001 010111 110101 11110101 11111101 111101 110001 01110111 01010001 10101 110101 01111101 01110011 111101 011111 10111111 11111101 011101 111101 01010101 11010101 110101 010101 01010101 110100111 110111 101101 01110011 11010101 111111 110111 11111101 10010101 11011 10011 11010101 11110101 111101 1001001 11011101 110111 111101 1111 11000111 10010101 110001 011101 01001001 10010111 11001 010001 11110111 01110111 100101 01101 010101001 11010111 110001 110101 01001111 1110101 00101 110101 11010111 11110101 1 100101 101111 11010101 11111111 1111101 10111 11010001 11110111 1101111
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 4,010
Words 755
Sentences 99
Stanzas 30
Stanza Lengths 5, 4, 8, 4, 4, 5, 8, 4, 4, 4, 5, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 8, 1
Lines Amount 133
Letters per line (avg) 23
Words per line (avg) 7
Letters per stanza (avg) 101
Words per stanza (avg) 29
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

3:47 min read
113

Ada Cambridge

Ada Cambridge, later known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian writer. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works. Many of her novels were serialised in Australian newspapers but never published in book form. While she was known to friends and family by her married name, Ada Cross, her newspaper readers knew her as A. C.. She later reverted to her maiden name, Ada Cambridge, and that is how she is known today.  more…

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