Poems (Follen)/Musings in the Night

by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen

MUSINGS IN THE NIGHT.

When, in the silence of the night,
Through all the dazzling fields of light,
My spirit takes her trackless flight,
And rises freer than the wind,
Leaving my house of clay behind,—
Methinks on this small spot of earth,
Where loving parents hailed my birth,
I look with tenderness and love;
And thus I moralize above:
 Dear native home! seen from afar,
Thou lookest like a twinkling star.
Where are the sins that stain thy breast?
The sorrows that disturb thy rest?
The restless tide of misery here,
No longer murmurs on my ear;
But, calmly hanging on the air,
And all so still, and bright and fair,
Thou lookest like a thing of light,
Lending thy glories to the night.
And as the solemn hymn I hear,
Which ever rolls from sphere to sphere,
Methinks you join the rapturous song;
Each hallelujah you prolong
To Him, the holy One, whose voice
Bade all these worlds of light rejoice.
And is this holy, happy sight,
A visionary, fleeting light?
And did my dreaming fancy raise
That long, resounding note of praise?
And is the earth one scene of woe,
And misery and guilt? O, no!
That love which said, "Let there be light!"
That love which parted day and night,
With undiminished glory, still
Sends its broad beams from hill to hill;
Still sheds its pure, benignant rays
On those who scoff and those who praise.
Thus, when our spirits take their flight,
And walk among the fields of light,
We learn that what seemed discord here,
Is music to a heavenly ear:
That darkness, sorrow, doubt, and care,
Are lost in joy and brightness there:
That sin destroys itself and dies,
While holy thoughts and actions rise,
And shine immortal in the skies.