 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
NIGHT.
Night, queenly Night approaches, her dark robe
Gemmed thick with stars; and, while her gentle touch
Opens the sun-sealed fountains of the dew,
Her fragrant breath is passing o'er the earth,
Closing the flowers in slumber. Beautiful,
And strong as beautiful art thou. The child
Who lifts his tiny hands in joy to see
The crescent on thy brow, is not more fair;
And the stern king at whose dread name men shrink,
Is scarce more powerful. Thy soft whisper lulls
Whole cities to forgetfulness, and sheds
The sweets of slumber o'er the armèd host
No less than o'er the busy insect tribes
That hum their hour away; till silence reigns
Unmoved, save by the melancholy song
Old Ocean wakes within his hollow caves.
Gemmed thick with stars; and, while her gentle touch
Opens the sun-sealed fountains of the dew,
Her fragrant breath is passing o'er the earth,
Closing the flowers in slumber. Beautiful,
And strong as beautiful art thou. The child
Who lifts his tiny hands in joy to see
The crescent on thy brow, is not more fair;
And the stern king at whose dread name men shrink,
Is scarce more powerful. Thy soft whisper lulls
Whole cities to forgetfulness, and sheds
The sweets of slumber o'er the armèd host
No less than o'er the busy insect tribes
That hum their hour away; till silence reigns
Unmoved, save by the melancholy song
Old Ocean wakes within his hollow caves.
Night, queenly Night, like woman's holy love,
Thy blessed influence breathes on all around,
And fills the earth with gentleness and peace.
O! who, while gazing on thy placid brow,
Thou first-born of eternity! can feel
The weight of earthly vanities? 'Tis thine
To loose the fetters which the world has twined
Around the spirit's eagle wings, and give
Free flight to daring thought, till the proud soul
O'erleaps the narrow bounds of time and sense
To pierce the glorious mysteries of Heaven.
Thy blessed influence breathes on all around,
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O! who, while gazing on thy placid brow,
Thou first-born of eternity! can feel
The weight of earthly vanities? 'Tis thine
To loose the fetters which the world has twined
Around the spirit's eagle wings, and give
Free flight to daring thought, till the proud soul
O'erleaps the narrow bounds of time and sense
To pierce the glorious mysteries of Heaven.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |