55
Yon foliage, glistening with the dews of night.
And earth and sky alike are hushed to rest;
While mirrored on the water's waveless breast,
Like dreams of fancy bright, but fading still,
The gemlike stars in mimic beauty shine.
It is an hour to calm the troubled heart,
To shed its own deep stillness o'er the soul,
And fill the breast with Nature's deep repose:
For all looks fair beneath the dim, soft light,
Which o'er the world in mellowed lustre falls,
From yonder countless lamps of living fire.
And earth and sky alike are hushed to rest;
While mirrored on the water's waveless breast,
Like dreams of fancy bright, but fading still,
The gemlike stars in mimic beauty shine.
It is an hour to calm the troubled heart,
To shed its own deep stillness o'er the soul,
And fill the breast with Nature's deep repose:
For all looks fair beneath the dim, soft light,
Which o'er the world in mellowed lustre falls,
From yonder countless lamps of living fire.
I love your gentle light, ye mystic orbs;
It clothes with tenfold beauty every charm,
Yet casts in shade each spot which seemed by day
To mar the prospect, or deface the scene.
How like that light the beam which memory sheds
On those dear forms of life—once glad and gay,
And loved, perchance, foo fondly loved while here,—
Now sleeping low to wake on earth no more!
Their sun hath set, their day is quenched in night,—
But oh! that starlight radiance still illumes
Their earthly course with melancholy beam,
And lights again their chequered path below;
Clothes every long-loved grace with richer hue,
O'er every beauty flings a deeper charm,
But fondly casts oblivion's shadowy veil
O'er each light spot, which still, alas! must stain
Earth's best and dearest. All which once she blamed,
Affection now forgets. Her lost ones sleep,
Lovely in life, in death more lovely still.
It clothes with tenfold beauty every charm,
Yet casts in shade each spot which seemed by day
To mar the prospect, or deface the scene.
How like that light the beam which memory sheds
On those dear forms of life—once glad and gay,
And loved, perchance, foo fondly loved while here,—
Now sleeping low to wake on earth no more!
Their sun hath set, their day is quenched in night,—
But oh! that starlight radiance still illumes
Their earthly course with melancholy beam,
And lights again their chequered path below;
Clothes every long-loved grace with richer hue,
O'er every beauty flings a deeper charm,
But fondly casts oblivion's shadowy veil
O'er each light spot, which still, alas! must stain
Earth's best and dearest. All which once she blamed,
Affection now forgets. Her lost ones sleep,
Lovely in life, in death more lovely still.
E.
October 17, 1834.
