Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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SONNET.
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105
SONNET.
[The Night! the mighty mourner!—how she comes]
The Night! the mighty mourner!—how she comesVeiled in a World of Shadows gloomily!
Bowing her head of sorrows from the Sky,
And planting her dim footsteps on the tombs!—
The Mourner—the awful Mourner!—the cold Homes
Of Generations, where these slumbering lie,
Thrill to her presence, and the pale Dead die
Once more beneath her frown that blights and dooms!
The Dead once more die in Night's Funeral hours;
For Day to them a dubious Life doth lend!
They seem to breathe again with leaves and flowers:
Death's Sister—Night!—comes on! once more must end
Their semblance of existence!—She o'erpowers
Both Life and Death, and doth in darkness blend.
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