 | Naked Genius |  |
28
MEDITATIONS ON A COLD DARK AND RAINY NIGHT.
Sweet on the house top falls the gentle shower,
When jet black darkness crowns the silent hour,
When shrill the owlet pours her hollow tone,
Like some lost child sequestered and alone,
When wills bewildering wisp begins to flare,
And Philomela breathes her dulcet air,
'Tis sweet to listen to her nightly tune,
Deprived of starlight on the smiling moon.
When jet black darkness crowns the silent hour,
When shrill the owlet pours her hollow tone,
Like some lost child sequestered and alone,
When wills bewildering wisp begins to flare,
And Philomela breathes her dulcet air,
'Tis sweet to listen to her nightly tune,
Deprived of starlight on the smiling moon.
When deadly winds sweep round the rural shed,
And tell of strangers lost without a bed,
Fond sympathy invokes her dol'rous lay,
And pleasure steals in sorrow's gloom away,
Till fost'ring Somnus bids my eyes to close,
And smiling visions open to repose;
Still on my soothing couch I lie at ease,
Still round my chamber flows the whistling breeze.
And tell of strangers lost without a bed,
Fond sympathy invokes her dol'rous lay,
And pleasure steals in sorrow's gloom away,
Till fost'ring Somnus bids my eyes to close,
And smiling visions open to repose;
Still on my soothing couch I lie at ease,
Still round my chamber flows the whistling breeze.
Still in the chain of life I lie confin'd,
To all the threat'ning ills of life resigned;
Regardless of the wandering elfs of night,
While phantoms break on my immortal sight;
The trump of morning bids my slumber end,
While from a flood of light I straight ascend,
When on a busy world I cast my eye,
And think of nightly slumbers with surprise.
To all the threat'ning ills of life resigned;
Regardless of the wandering elfs of night,
While phantoms break on my immortal sight;
The trump of morning bids my slumber end,
While from a flood of light I straight ascend,
When on a busy world I cast my eye,
And think of nightly slumbers with surprise.
| Naked Genius | |