Search The Archive

Search form

Collection Search
Date: 1st


The night is cold and dreary,
            The wind howls round the hut;
My heart grows sad and weary,
            I’m all alone . . . but

Back across the windswept sea,
            Beyond the great divide,
There waits for me
            Hope, like the rushing tide.

My fears dispel and slip away
            Into the howling night,
Like ghosts, whirling through the grey,
            Stricken with fear of Might.

And now my heart grows warm and strong,
            For I know I’m not forgotten.
Then some day—not long,
            I’ll be back in my homey haven.

     – 1941-1943

Original Scans

Original Scans