Poems (Griffith)/Moonlight
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For works with similar titles, see Moonlight.
Moonlight.
AS here I sit within my lonely room,
A spirit seems abroad upon the air,
That o'er me flings an influence mild and sweet,
Yet mournful and mysterious. It is soft,
And calm, and hallowed, yet so very sad,
That tears are on my eyelids It unlocks
Memory's pale urn, and to my soul reveals
Treasures long hidden in its depths. It calls
Forth, from their cold and silent graves, the forms
Of dearly loved one's faded long ago.
They seem to live again; they move once more
Beside me as they moved in life; they breathe
Sweet accents in my ear; they rise from earth
On angel plumes and gently beckon me
Through the soft, silvery mists that float around,
To follow them upon their long
And shining trail of glory.
A spirit seems abroad upon the air,
That o'er me flings an influence mild and sweet,
Yet mournful and mysterious. It is soft,
And calm, and hallowed, yet so very sad,
That tears are on my eyelids It unlocks
Memory's pale urn, and to my soul reveals
Treasures long hidden in its depths. It calls
Forth, from their cold and silent graves, the forms
Of dearly loved one's faded long ago.
They seem to live again; they move once more
Beside me as they moved in life; they breathe
Sweet accents in my ear; they rise from earth
On angel plumes and gently beckon me
Through the soft, silvery mists that float around,
To follow them upon their long
And shining trail of glory.
'Tis a strange
But pure and blessed spirit, for each thought
It wakes is pure and blessed. Every dream
It brings is soft, and deep, and beautiful
As 'twere an Eden vision. And, oh, see!
A pale, unearthly light is in the air,
Chastening the shadows that dance fitfully
Along the silent walls; and now I feel
My cheek and brow are hallowed by its pure
And radiant baptism.
But pure and blessed spirit, for each thought
It wakes is pure and blessed. Every dream
It brings is soft, and deep, and beautiful
As 'twere an Eden vision. And, oh, see!
A pale, unearthly light is in the air,
Chastening the shadows that dance fitfully
Along the silent walls; and now I feel
My cheek and brow are hallowed by its pure
And radiant baptism.
Ah, it is the sweet
Soft spirit of the Moonlight. 'Tis the gleam
Of yonder "Queen of mysteries," wandering forth
Like a pale nun in heaven. Lone-musing here
Amid the shadows of my curtained room,
I saw it not, but yet I felt its spell
Steal through the air and sink into my soul,
As with an angel power. And lo! as now
I gaze out from my window on the earth,
How softly and how beautifully beams
The moonlight over nature. The young leaves
Turn up their edges to its silver glow,
And quiver with their rapture. The blue isles,
The streams, the hills, the forests and the clouds
Seem things of fairy-land, for beauty floats
Like a wild dream around them. Gentle moon!
Pale, lonely mistress of the solemn night!
The tides of my young bosom heave and swell,
Even as the tides of ocean, to thy strong
Mysterious power! Oh! fill my breast with light
From thy high sun and touch each shadowy thought,
Each dark and gloomy fancy of my heart,
With thy unclouded beams.
Soft spirit of the Moonlight. 'Tis the gleam
Of yonder "Queen of mysteries," wandering forth
Like a pale nun in heaven. Lone-musing here
Amid the shadows of my curtained room,
I saw it not, but yet I felt its spell
Steal through the air and sink into my soul,
As with an angel power. And lo! as now
I gaze out from my window on the earth,
How softly and how beautifully beams
The moonlight over nature. The young leaves
Turn up their edges to its silver glow,
And quiver with their rapture. The blue isles,
The streams, the hills, the forests and the clouds
Seem things of fairy-land, for beauty floats
Like a wild dream around them. Gentle moon!
Pale, lonely mistress of the solemn night!
The tides of my young bosom heave and swell,
Even as the tides of ocean, to thy strong
Mysterious power! Oh! fill my breast with light
From thy high sun and touch each shadowy thought,
Each dark and gloomy fancy of my heart,
With thy unclouded beams.
There is a pure
Sweet moonlight of the soul, that from the sky
Shines on our earthly spirits, silvering o'er
Each depth of doubt, and sin, and agony
With the celestial beauty of its beams,
And bidding every shadow melt away;
Religion is that brightener of the soul,
And life's dark waters glowing in its light,
Mirror the wondrous glories of the heavens.
Sweet moonlight of the soul, that from the sky
Shines on our earthly spirits, silvering o'er
Each depth of doubt, and sin, and agony
With the celestial beauty of its beams,
And bidding every shadow melt away;
Religion is that brightener of the soul,
And life's dark waters glowing in its light,
Mirror the wondrous glories of the heavens.
Louisville, March 15.