 | [Poems by Lazarus in] The Cambridge book of poetry and song |  |
NIGHT.
[From Scenes in the Wood. Suggested by Robert Schumann.]
White stars begin to prick the wan blue sky,
The trees arise, thick, black and tall: between
Their slim, dark boles, gray, film-winged gnats that fly
Against the failing western red are seen.
The footpaths dumb with moss have lost their green.
Mysterious shadows settle everywhere,
A passionate murmur trembles in the air.
The trees arise, thick, black and tall: between
Their slim, dark boles, gray, film-winged gnats that fly
Against the failing western red are seen.
The footpaths dumb with moss have lost their green.
Mysterious shadows settle everywhere,
A passionate murmur trembles in the air.
Sweet scents wax richer, freshened with cool dews.
The whole vast forest seems to breathe, to sigh
With rustle, hum and whisper that confuse
The listening ear, blent with the fitful cry
Of some belated bird. In the far sky,
Throbbing with stars, there stirs a weird unrest,
Strange joy, akin to pain, fulfils the breast—
The whole vast forest seems to breathe, to sigh
With rustle, hum and whisper that confuse
The listening ear, blent with the fitful cry
Of some belated bird. In the far sky,
Throbbing with stars, there stirs a weird unrest,
Strange joy, akin to pain, fulfils the breast—
A longing born of fears and promises,
A wild desire, a hope that heeds no bound.
A ray of moonlight struggling through the trees
Startles us like a phantom; on the ground
Fall curious shades; white glory spreads around;
The wood is past, and tranquil meadows wide,
Bathed in bright vapor, stretch on every side.
A wild desire, a hope that heeds no bound.
A ray of moonlight struggling through the trees
Startles us like a phantom; on the ground
Fall curious shades; white glory spreads around;
The wood is past, and tranquil meadows wide,
Bathed in bright vapor, stretch on every side.
| [Poems by Lazarus in] The Cambridge book of poetry and song | |