The voice of love by George Eliot

SHOULD I long that dark were fair?
Say, O song,
Lacks my love aught, that I should long?

Dark the night, with breath all flow’rs,
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the listening hours:
Whisperings, wooings,
Liquid ripples and soft ring-dove cooings
In low-ton’d rhythm that love’s aching stills.

Dark the night,
Yet is she bright,
For in her dark she brings the mystic star,
Trembling yet strong, as is the voice of love,
From some unknown afar.
O radiant Dark! O darkly-fostered ray!
Thou hast a joy too deep for shallow Day.
George Eliot
Songs from “The Spanish Gypsy.” I. The Dark