SONNETS.
NIGHT.
I.
O calmly, lovingly, Night, vast and deep,
Bend round the breathing world! Thou cool-browed wife
Of fiery Day—he, stirrer of old strife,
Thou, soother, mother; in whose heart we keep
A hiding-place to dream, to hope, to weep!
Who still exhalest in the purple sky,
The old star-bloom of immortality,
Wreathing our momentariness and- sleep
With dignity so sweet and sovereign!
Happy the earth to kiss thy broidered hem!
Her weak and flagging aspirations take
New pinions in thy shadows; thou dost make
Love deeper bliss, and even care and pain
Are great and worthy, since thou touchest them,
Bend round the breathing world! Thou cool-browed wife
Of fiery Day—he, stirrer of old strife,
Thou, soother, mother; in whose heart we keep
A hiding-place to dream, to hope, to weep!
Who still exhalest in the purple sky,
The old star-bloom of immortality,
Wreathing our momentariness and- sleep
With dignity so sweet and sovereign!
Happy the earth to kiss thy broidered hem!
Her weak and flagging aspirations take
New pinions in thy shadows; thou dost make
Love deeper bliss, and even care and pain
Are great and worthy, since thou touchest them,
