72
poems.
MIDNIGHT.
Midnight,—and nature round was hushed
In deep and dreamy slumber: not a sound,
Wherewith by day earth's busy multitudes
Are wont to break her sweet repose, came o'er
The 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 war
With Nature, in the deep tranquillity
With which she works her great and glorious deeds,
Kept silence too, in this her Sabbath hour
Of rest and deep devotion.
In deep and dreamy slumber: not a sound,
Wherewith by day earth's busy multitudes
Are wont to break her sweet repose, came o'er
The 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 war
With Nature, in the deep tranquillity
With which she works her great and glorious deeds,
Kept silence too, in this her Sabbath hour
Of rest and deep devotion.
Night! thou great
And ministering spirit to the soul
Of man, breathing of truth, and heaven, and God!
How dost thou lift the heart above the cares
And 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 storm
And crash of elements, no less than in
The gentle breeze, that scarcely stirs the young
And 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.
And ministering spirit to the soul
Of man, breathing of truth, and heaven, and God!
How dost thou lift the heart above the cares
And 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 storm
And crash of elements, no less than in
The gentle breeze, that scarcely stirs the young
And 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.
