Hymn to the Night
I heard the trailing garments of the Night
I felt her presence, by its spell of might,
I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,
From the cool cisterns of the midnight air
O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear
Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls!
Stoop o’er me from above;
The calm, majestic presence of the Night,
As of the one I love.
The manifold, soft chimes,
That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,
Like some old poet’s rhymes.
My spirit drank repose;
The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,—
From those deep cisterns flows.
What man has borne before!
Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care
And they complain no more.
Descend with broad-winged flight,
The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,
The best-beloved Night!
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Hymn to the Night by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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