Poems (Sackville)/Nightfall
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For works with similar titles, see Nightfall.
NIGHTFALL
THREE SONNETS
I. The Earth
Pale, patient, with her throbbing heart at rest,
Waiting with half-closed, half-expectant eyes,
Till slumber's lips shall cleave in pitying wise,
Full of sweet comfort, to her brows and breast,
She feels by one and one in the bright West
Fade the long trails of gold, and wavering shades
Leap from lone forests and forgotten glades,
And dance and shimmer at the moon's behest.
Waiting with half-closed, half-expectant eyes,
Till slumber's lips shall cleave in pitying wise,
Full of sweet comfort, to her brows and breast,
She feels by one and one in the bright West
Fade the long trails of gold, and wavering shades
Leap from lone forests and forgotten glades,
And dance and shimmer at the moon's behest.
What change is on the fields?—the old known land
Spreads, by some goddess of the twilight planned,
A cloudy world of formless trees and flowers,
Spreads, by some goddess of the twilight planned,
A cloudy world of formless trees and flowers,
Where with cool hands the placid gardener, night,
Waters the blossoms of the pale moonlight
With quiet dews of unregarded hours.
Waters the blossoms of the pale moonlight
With quiet dews of unregarded hours.
II. The Sky
How far, how far; with unavailing eye,
Shall the frail sight grasp night's significance,
Or pierce the trackless, terrible expanse,
The vast and awful desert of the sky?
If all the labouring world in one vast sigh
Melted and vanished from its ancient place,
Would any ripple stir the seas of Space,
Or the least echo sorrow in reply?
Shall the frail sight grasp night's significance,
Or pierce the trackless, terrible expanse,
The vast and awful desert of the sky?
If all the labouring world in one vast sigh
Melted and vanished from its ancient place,
Would any ripple stir the seas of Space,
Or the least echo sorrow in reply?
Oh, Hand, which through a shuddering chaos hurled
Star upon endless star and world on world,
Will thy dread sowing spring to harvest soon!
Star upon endless star and world on world,
Will thy dread sowing spring to harvest soon!
Now pregnant with the ghosts of æons past,
Through those unblossoming fields and pastures vast,
The evident face of Silence, dawns the moon.
Through those unblossoming fields and pastures vast,
The evident face of Silence, dawns the moon.
III, The Sea
Even if the veil of long Infinity
Were at some awful summons to divide,
The inexpressible gulf would fail to hide
The splendour and the passion of the sea.
These yearning chords will clash unendingly
When all the works and fruits of Time are dead,
And only barren winds and waters spread
Where stars and moons and suns have ceased to be.
Were at some awful summons to divide,
The inexpressible gulf would fail to hide
The splendour and the passion of the sea.
These yearning chords will clash unendingly
When all the works and fruits of Time are dead,
And only barren winds and waters spread
Where stars and moons and suns have ceased to be.
Night, with a veil athwart her quiet face,
Bends where the impetuous waves and foam- clouds race,
And gird the shore with shimmering zones of spray.
Bends where the impetuous waves and foam- clouds race,
And gird the shore with shimmering zones of spray.
Within her arms the moaning tempests rest,
And all the seas are gathered to her breast,
And all the lost and lingering tears of day.
And all the seas are gathered to her breast,
And all the lost and lingering tears of day.