Poems (Cook)/Night
For works with similar titles, see Night.
NIGHT.
The God of Day is speeding his way
Through the golden gates of the West;
The rosebud sleeps in the parting ray,
The bird is seeking its nest.
Through the golden gates of the West;
The rosebud sleeps in the parting ray,
The bird is seeking its nest.
I love the light-yet welcome, Night;
For beneath thy darkling fall,
The troubled breast is soothed in rest,
And the slave forgets his thrall.
For beneath thy darkling fall,
The troubled breast is soothed in rest,
And the slave forgets his thrall.
The peasant child, all strong and wild,
Is growing quiet and meek;
All fire is hid 'neath his heavy lid,
The lashes yearn to the cheek.
Is growing quiet and meek;
All fire is hid 'neath his heavy lid,
The lashes yearn to the cheek.
He roves no more in gamesome glee,
But hangs his weary head;
And loiters beside the mother's knee,
To ask his lowly bed.
But hangs his weary head;
And loiters beside the mother's knee,
To ask his lowly bed.
The butterflies fold their wings of gold,
The dew falls chill in the bower;
The cattle wait at the kineyard gate,
The bee hath forsaken the flower:
The dew falls chill in the bower;
The cattle wait at the kineyard gate,
The bee hath forsaken the flower:
The roar of the city is dying fast,
Its tongues no longer thrill;
The hurrying tread is faint at last,
The artisan's hammer is still.
Its tongues no longer thrill;
The hurrying tread is faint at last,
The artisan's hammer is still.
Night steals apace she rules supreme;
A hallow'd calm is shed:
No footstep breaks, no whisper wakes—
'Tis the silence of the dead.
A hallow'd calm is shed:
No footstep breaks, no whisper wakes—
'Tis the silence of the dead.
The hollow bay of a distant dog
Bids drowsy Echo start;
The chiming hour, from an old church tower,
Strikes fearfully on the heart.
Bids drowsy Echo start;
The chiming hour, from an old church tower,
Strikes fearfully on the heart.
All spirits are bound in slumber sound,
Save those o'er a death-bed weeping;
Or the soldier one that paces alone,
His guard by the watch-fire keeping.
Save those o'er a death-bed weeping;
Or the soldier one that paces alone,
His guard by the watch-fire keeping.
With ebon wand and sable robe,
How beautiful, Night, art thou!
Serenely set on a throne of jet,
With stars about thy brow.
How beautiful, Night, art thou!
Serenely set on a throne of jet,
With stars about thy brow.
Thou comest to dry the mourner's eye,
That, wakeful, is ever dim;
To hush for awhile the grieving sigh,
And give strength to the wearied limb.
That, wakeful, is ever dim;
To hush for awhile the grieving sigh,
And give strength to the wearied limb.
Hail to thy sceptre, Ethiop queen!
Fair mercy marks thy reign;
For the careworn breast may take its rest,
And the slave forget his chain.
Fair mercy marks thy reign;
For the careworn breast may take its rest,
And the slave forget his chain.