Poems (Baldwyn)/Night
For works with similar titles, see Night.
NIGHT.
(Written in Early Spring.)
Solemn art thou, O Night, When o'er the heavens thy sable vesture reigns; Mournfully soft in light, E'en in their grandeur, are thy starry trains.
Pensive thy silent skies When mists and clouds do veil their lofty zone; And sad the wind's faint sighs When o'er the hills they sweep with sullen moan.
Dark are thine hours, O Night, When leafless trees are wailing 'mid the blast; Nor seems the moon as bright Since o'er the earth the summer leaves are cast.
The cheerful songs are gone; The summer's music never more we hear; A far-off stream alone Lends its lone echo to the list'ning ear.
Is it the same sweet stream That was my ev'ning music when the night Was fairer than a dream? It is the same!—the hours return so bright!
And thus, when all is fled,—The fairness, brightness, beauty, of our days,— May hope's soft voice be sped, With all its sweet and thrilling melodies.