IX

3 0 00

IX

Night

After the fret and failure of this day,

And weariness of thought, O Mother Night,

Come with soft kiss to soothe our care away

And all our little tumults set to right;

Most pitiful of all death’s kindred fair,

Riding above us through the curtained air

On thy dusk car, thou scatterest to the earth

Sweet dreams and drowsy charms of tender might

And lovers’ dear delight before to-morrow’s birth.

Thus art thou wont thy quiet lands to leave

And pillared courts beyond the Milky Way

Wherein thou tarriest all our solar day

While unsubstantial dreams before thee weave

A foamy dance, and fluttering fancies play

About thy palace in the silver ray

Of some far, moony globe. But when the hour,

The long-expected comes, the ivory gates

Open on noiseless hinge before thy bower

Unbidden, and the jewelled chariot waits

With magic steeds. Thou from the fronting rim

Bending to urge them, whilst thy sea-dark hair

Falls in ambrosial ripples o’er each limb,

With beautiful pale arms, untrammelled, bare

For horsemanship to those twin chargers fleet

Dost give full reign across the fires that flow

In the wide floor of heaven, from off their feet

Scattering the powdery star-dust as they go.

Come swiftly down the sky, O Lady Night,

Fall through the shadow-country, O most kind,

Shake out thy strands of gentle dreams and light

For chains, wherewith thou still art used to bind

With tenderest love of careful leeches’ art

The bruised and weary heart

In slumber blind.