Poems (Hale)/Midnight
For works with similar titles, see Midnight.
MIDNIGHT.
Midnight,—and nature round was hushedIn deep and dreamy slumber: not a sound,Wherewith by day earth's busy multitudesAre wont to break her sweet repose, came o'erThe ear, to tell of earthly care and strife.The bird's sweet silvery voice had ceased its strain;And man, whose bustling cares are most at warWith Nature, in the deep tranquillityWith which she works her great and glorious deeds,Kept silence too, in this her Sabbath hourOf rest and deep devotion.
Night! thou greatAnd ministering spirit to the soulOf man, breathing of truth, and heaven, and God!How dost thou lift the heart above the caresAnd groveling thoughts of earth, its trivial things,And link us to the Majesty above.Above? O! everywhere, around, beneath,Within, amid the kindling light of day,The hushed repose of midnight, in the stormAnd crash of elements, no less than inThe gentle breeze, that scarcely stirs the youngAnd dew-gemmed blossoms of the leafy May.There is a beauty in the noontide blaze;But dearer far those starry crowns on high,That shine all gloriously upon the brow of night. By day, amid the thronging cares of life,We can forget the dignity of himWhose nature links him to the myriad hosts,That dwell amid the uncreated beamsOf heaven's effulgent day. We can forgetHow we have turned us from the sacred FountOf truth and wisdom infinite. But whenIts star-gemmed mantle, darkness casts around,O! who can gaze upon the countless realmsThat stud the azure canopy above,Nor feel his littleness, the vanityOf earth and all its joys, the priceless wealthOf heaven, and all his own immortal hopes?Who does not yearn to soar to that abode,Promised a sure and holy heritage,To those who follow His supreme command,Whose will created man for bliss and heaven?
Thou sacred Fount of purity and love!Whose guiding hand my feeble steps upholds,O! give me strength that narrow way to tread,Which leads me through the mazy path of earthTo heaven.