Arbo, Night, 1871
Hymn to the Night
Aspasie, trillistos.
I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble
halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial
walls!
I felt her presence, by its spell of might,
Stoop o'er me from
above;
The calm, majestic presence of the Night,
As of the one I love.
I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,
The manifold, soft
chimes,
That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,
Like some old poet's
rhymes.
From the cool cisterns of the midnight air
My spirit drank repose;
The fountain of perpetual peace flows there, —
From those deep cisterns
flows.
O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear
What man has borne
before!
Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care,
And they complain no
more.
Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
Descend with
broad-winged flight,
The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,
The best-beloved Night!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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