 | Orellana and Other Poems |  |
220
NIGHT.
Night lifts her shadowy arms above the earth,And breathes a benediction o'er the town;
And eyes are closed, and aching heads go down,
And silence sits by the forsaken hearth.
And now in dreams to pale neglected Worth
Come recognition and a cool green crown,
And these have friends for every waking frown
And those for every misery now have mirth.
O blessèd sleep! that like a curtain nightly
Drops on this tragi-comedy of man.
And blessèd, too, ye heaven-sent dreams, that rightly
Transform the piece to the original plan.
But best the buskined close—however lightly
Hope slipped the sock on when the play began!
| Orellana and Other Poems | |