Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
As silent lightning leaves the starless night!
Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
As silent lightning leaves the starless night!
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.
Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light,
The night is good; because, my love,
They never say good-night.
O storm of death,
Whose sightless speed divides this sullen night!
they know not--till the night of death,
As sunset that strange vision, severeth
Our memory from itself, and us from all
We sought and yet were baffled.
Good-night ah no the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night.
Day and night, day and night,
He was my breath and life and light,
For three short years, which soon were passed.
As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.
Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild
And terrorless as this serenest night.
Be it not said, thought, understood --
Then it will be -- good night.
A sensitive plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew, And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light, And closed them beneath the kisses of night.
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.
Ah, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave,
Or summer succeed to the winter of death?
The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories