 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
382
MIDNIGHT.
MIDNIGHT upon the waters! Heaven is gemm'dWith all the brilliant garniture of night;
And the waves dance, in liquid radiance bright,
As though the rays from Peris' wings reflected
Flash'd through the crystal element, and stream'd
Upon its surface in effulgent light.
My boat glides onward, silently—directed
By the invisible spirits of air, who throng
The viewless space, and mildly, sweetly fan
With soft and beautiful wings the brow of man.
The moon upon the lake her rays is flinging,
And calmly greets me as I glide along,
And seek with curious gaze her face to scan;
The music of the waterfall is ringing,
Mellowed by distance in my listening ear—
As 't were the warble of some wood-nymph fair,
Rising in notes melodious on the air.
All else is hush'd! save when, in whispers stealing,
A low and mystic minstrelsy I hear—
Like earthly echoes of some seraph's pray'r—
That soothes the soul to calm and holy feeling.
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |