University of Virginia Library

Midnight waned in the ebon sky,
And the deep blue vault of Heaven was still,
Save the warning voice of the angel's cry,
As he watched the fiends on Zion hill.
His warder notes in the depths of night
Are heard alone by the minstrel's ear,
(For each high star in its magic light
Hath a voice that fancy's soul may hear;)
And the sleeping earth in silence lay,
Dreaming of love or hate or wo,
While the lulling lapse of a streamlet's play
Rose faint and far in the moonlight glow.
And I wandered on in reverie lost,
'Till the brutal roar of a revel rout
The circling current of fancy crossed,
And made the waked sense gaze about;
When the flaring lights of the banquet hall,
And the noisy rush of revelry,
And the mummery mask, and sparkling ball,
Burst on my ear, and heart, and eye.
And I stood and mused of the forms that there
Displayed their charms to the losel's view,
The visored smile that masked despair,
And the scornful laugh that ne'er was true;
The silent pain of a dazzling breast,
The feverish throb of a jewelled brow,
The painful wish to seem most blest
When sighing with excess of wo;—
And the sight did chill my aching eye
As I mused on that gaudy misery.
The glare waxed dim as I gazed alone,
And the fairy forms I saw were gone;
And the rushing sound of mirth and glee
Retired like the waves of a stormy sea.
What pillows of fear will the revellers press?
What dreams be theirs of happiness?
When those gorgeous robes are laid aside,
Where will their mirth be, pomp and pride?
The beds that ye press, I envy not,
Nor your heartless joys and painful lot.

I entered at morn—and it came full soon,
To the banquet hall and the proud saloon;
And many a vestige of revelry there
Told of past pleasure—but where, oh where,
Were the forms and the shadows, so bright and gay?
Hide it from earth, both love and lay!
The vacant chair, and the goblet broken,
And scattered viands, were many a token
Of what had been—and my lonely eye
Wandered o'er all as a saddened sigh
Stole from my heart, at the mournful view
Of the wreck of those joys that man thinks true.