Night.
Oh ! beauteous is the golden light1
Of Morn, when first she springs2
Over the mountain’s rosy height3
On gay and gladsome wings.4
Beautiful are the clouds that break5
Before her beamy tress ;6
Rippling like smiles, that all but speak7
Their inward happiness.8
But lovelier far to me is Night,9
With all her solemn shades ;10
For then the stars are shining bright11
O’er bowers and dreamy glades.12
Then nought is heard but running streams,13
Or brooks that murmur by,14
Or leaves that look like fairy beams15
Stir’d by some spirit’s sigh.16
Oh ! then the bashful Moon gives forth17
Her pale and playful smiles,18
Till, like a silver sea, the earth19
Seems resting from its toils.20
O how the clouds their bosoms turn21
To that fair Queen of Night,22
Who pours from her unsullied urn23
One mass of golden light !24
They turn to her—they turn to her—25
Soothed into beauty, then26
Each one a rival worshipper27
In her triumphant train.28
Her diadem is gemm’d with stars,29
Her sceptre jewell’d too ;30
The crystal air its light unbars,31
And glory greets her view.32
And look how courteously the sky33
Salutes her loveliness ;34
Unnumber’d planets burn on high,35
To lure her coy caress.36
The winds harmoniously attune37
Their golden harps above :38
Up ! holy, bashful, gentle moon,39
With thy bright looks of love.40
How modestly have closed the flowers,41
Their vases fill’d with dew !42
And how the night-bird charms the hours,43
Charm’d by their beauty too !44
And how the river’s diamond plain45
Reflects the isles of bliss :46
O well may earthly man be vain47
Of such a heaven as his !48
And now doth Solitude unveil49
Her shadowy, solemn brow ;50
And Silence, with her lip so pale,51
Tell to the heart her vow :52
And now doth Modesty unfold53
Her bosom to the breeze ;54
And Bashfulness herself grows bold,55
For nought her beauty sees ;56
Nought but the stars in heavenly camp,57
Whose lustre is most holy ;58
Nought but the glow-worm’s tiny lamp,59
Or bird of melancholy.60
Oh ! all is chaste at midnight hour,61
Wooing the raptured vision ;62
Heaven sparkles like a magic bower—63
A beautiful Elysian.64
Then give me Night with her white beams,65
Her lustre so etherial,66
Her dreamy woods and murmuring streams,67
Her music so aërial ;68
For oh ! the heart will ever then69
Its deep thoughts be revealing,70
And answer to the solemn strain,71
With every pulse of feeling.72